


The Warlock Of The Flame

by QueerCosette



Series: On Se Sent Comme Par Magie [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Murder, Broken Families, Dark Magic, Engagement, Enjolras isn't non-binary but the gender binary means nothing to him, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Female Claquesous, Heartbreak, M/M, Magic, Mermaids, Mind Control, Monsters, Murder, Non-Binary Jean Prouvaire, Other, Royalty, Sacrifice, Self-Sacrifice, Temporary Character Death, Trans Feuilly, Warlocks, Witches, Wizards, god this one's a lot darker than the last two, hopefully badass fight scenes, merfolk, same goes for actually most of the characters bc i'm not good at writing binary people, so yeah everyone's a wee bit nonbinary, there are other relationships but they're surprises muhaha
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 11:26:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 141,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18827749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCosette/pseuds/QueerCosette
Summary: Cosette’s life is going great! With Lord Méchant defeated, her final year at Musain College for Faeries is going to be normal (for once); her relationship with Marius is going spectacularly (and it looks like there’s a proposal in the pipeline!); and there’s nothing to suggest that the Magical Dimension is in any danger. But then news of something horrible happening on Musichetta’s home planet reaches the ears of Les Amis - and according to Headmaster Myriel, there’s only one Warlock who could have caused it. As Cosette and her friends face off with the culprit, it becomes more and more apparent that his true nature and past are darker than any of them could have imagined...





	1. In Which Enjolras Just Wanted A New Suit

**Author's Note:**

> Book Three. Not gonna lie, this one's gonna be really dark. Like, reeeeeeaaaaaallllllly dark.
> 
> If you're an old reader, welcome back! If you're a new reader, I'm so happy to have you! Although I would advise you start at the beginning of this series.
> 
> And if you leave Kudos or a Review, I love you. I hope you enjoy!!!

It was time for Summer Vacation at Musain - six weeks off school, where Faeries were free to go home or stay in Magix, and do whatever they wished. The weather was beautiful, not a cloud in sight, and warm sunlight beamed down on the city of Magix, but in spite of this, Cosette couldn’t wait to return home to Paris and see her father again. She threw open the window and sat down at her desk chair, delighting in the warm breeze.

Meanwhile, Enjolras was flustering himself packing two separate suitcases at the same time - Enjolras’ parents had been divorced for a few years, and this meant that Enjolras would spend half of the holiday with his father, and half with his mother. He had pretty much accepted the divorce by this point, but it did make packing a bit tricky.

“Let’s see…” he pondered. “I’ll take the red silk suit to Mum’s and the blue cotton suit to Dad’s - but then again, the blue cotton suit would be perfect for Mum’s picnic, and the red silk suit would be great for Dad’s dinner with the delegates from Zenith…”

“The red silk suit _is_ really nice, Enjolras,” agreed Simone, Enjolras’ bonded Piskie.

“It is,” Enjolras sighed. “And it would have been lovely for Mum’s garden tea party… You wouldn’t happen to know any cloning spells, would you, Simone?”

Simone shook her head sadly.

Éponine, who was supposed to have been helping but instead was sunbathing on Enjolras’ bed, rolled her eyes and offered her opinion. “For Dragon’s sake, Enj, just put seven outfits in one bag and seven in the other, then wear whatever one is most practical.”

Enjolras gave a scandalised gasp. “And what, throw hours of meticulous planning out of the window? I _don’t_ think so!”

Jehan was in the room they shared with Cosette, and like Enjolras they were carefully separating their own personal effects into two suitcases. Jehan’s belonging binary, however, was slightly different from Enjolras’.

“All the aromatic potions go in the big bag, and all the floral scents go in the small one,” they hummed, levitating said items into their various cases and boxes. Roselyne, Jehan’s own bonded Piskie, hurried to catch a vial of lavender perfume that was slightly off target.

“On it, Jehan!”

Cosette got up from her desk chair and threw her phone onto her bed. “I just said goodbye to Marius,” she wailed dramatically.

Jehan patted her shoulder sympathetically. “Vacation isn’t that long, you’ll see him again soon,” they comforted.

Cosette groaned. “I know, but we kinda had a big fight, and I hate leaving it like that. And it was about something dumb too, so dumb I can’t even remember what it was!”

“It’ll be OK, sweetie,” Jehan insisted. “Give yourselves a few hours to cool off, then talk to him about it.”

Cosette sighed. “OK.”

Courfeyrac was probably the most organized of the Amis. While Enjolras was switching clothes from bag to bag, and Cosette hadn’t even started packing yet, and Jehan was still in their pyjamas trying to decide what colour of ridiculous velvet culottes to wear, Courfeyrac was hurriedly writing a magical computer programme that would fit his clothes perfectly into his bags (22.6% in the backpack and 77.4% in the suitcase). He finished adjusting the code that would (hopefully) fit all of his computer equipment into the other suitcase, pressed ‘enter’, and stood back to watch.

His clothes neatly folded themselves and stacked into his suitcase and backpack, while various wires, keyboards and monitors packed themselves snugly into the sturdiest bag. His Piskie, Abby, high-fived his index finger. “Nice!” she cheered. “Isn’t precision wonderful?”

“A thing of beauty,” chuckled Courfeyrac as he hoisted the backpack onto his shoulder and picked up the suitcases. “Come on, let’s go already!”

 

* * *

 

With all suitcases finally packed, the Amis headed out to the courtyard. Cosette, Éponine and Musichetta were all carrying cardboard boxes full of plants for Jehan, who was laden with bags containing potions, perfumes, clothes, and shoes. They’d finally decided on red culottes with a pink sparkly belt, and had paired them with a pink ruffled blouse with polka dot sleeves, pink knee-high socks, and red platform Mary-Jane heels. Like all their outfits, it was absolutely atrocious, but somehow it worked on them.

Éponine set her box down and turned to Cosette. “Since Chetta and I are staying here for the summer, we’ll help you carry your suitcases down,” she offered.

Cosette grinned and shook her head. “No need,” she giggled, and snapped her fingers. “Luggage, follow me!”

The window of the apartment burst open, and Cosette’s suitcase flew out, with her Piskie Juliette and her pet bunny Wolter riding it like a surfboard.

Enjolras chuckled and turned to Musichetta and Éponine. “So, since you two are staying here, what have you got planned?” he asked.

“We were thinking we might go to Magix beach this afternoon,” Musichetta replied, but a yelp of fright from above distracted her. Cosette’s flying suitcase was not the most practical nor stable seat, and when it stalled in mid-air, Wolter and Juliette had both been sent flying, while the suitcase tumbled towards the ground. Musichetta literally leaped into action - Juliette could fly on her own, but Wolter had seemingly forgotten about his wings, and the red-haired Faery caught him in her arms. Landing back on the ground, she assumed an arabesque position and caught the suitcase on her foot.

Cosette hurried over and took Wolter from her, thanking her gratefully. Musichetta made to place the case back on the ground, but the handle was stuck on her foot, and she toppled backwards – right into Enjolras’ stack of suitcases, which burst open.

Enjolras shrieked in annoyance. “It took me forever to get those packed! Now I have to re-sort them into my ‘mum’ bag and my ‘dad’ bag – _again!”_

“I’ll help you repack –” Cosette started, but just then everyone’s attention was caught by a bright light that appeared in mid-air in front of them. As they all gasped in amazement, the light formed into the shape of a young woman, wearing golden and red clothes and holding some kind of trumpet, which she blew into. The sound had a warm quality to it, reminding Cosette of the feeling she got when she lay down in the sunlight – warmth coursing through her entire body, making her feel at peace with everything. The woman had a friendly vibe; she didn’t seem to be an enemy, but none of the Amis seemed to recognise her – except Enjolras.

In fact, Enjolras looked very excited at her appearance, and he didn't even look away from her when he explained to them, “She’s a herald from Solaria – she must have a message for me!”

Indeed she did. She pulled out a golden scroll and unfurled it, setting her trumpet down where it hovered next to her. “The Royal Court of Solaria is pleased to announce that a Crown Ball will be held in two days’ time, in honour of Prince Enjolras of Solaria turning nineteen.” A shimmer of sunlight passed through her body, and they realised she was a hologram, rather than actually there in person.

Enjolras positively squirmed with excitement. “A Crown Ball!” he beamed. “A Crown Ball – for me!”

Cosette cleared her throat. “Um, I don’t mean to sound totally clueless, but… what’s a Crown Ball?”

“It’s a huge party,” Musichetta explained, “for the eldest child of the rulers, held on the child’s nineteenth birthday. When you’re a member of a royal family, turning nineteen means you’ve had a year to be an adult free of responsibility, and you can finally be crowned as the future ruler of your kingdom.”

“In the old days when they had arranged marriages, that was when your parents would announce who you were going to marry,” Éponine added.

Musichetta made a face. “They still have arranged marriages in some kingdoms. Nowadays though, you’re told the name of your betrothed on your eighteenth birthday, and then it will be announced to the kingdom when you turn nineteen.”

Enjolras shuddered. “Ugh, can you imagine having your fiancé chosen by your parents? That would suck!”

The herald cleared her throat, and they all turned back to her. “King Nicholas of Solaria sends a message for his son,” she continued. “‘I can’t wait to see you, son, and I have a special announcement that I’m sure will make you a happy Prince.’” The herald bowed, before vanishing in a burst of golden light. Everyone was silent in a moment of amazement, before Enjolras spoke again.

“Change of plans!” he said excitedly. “You’re all coming to Solaria with me!”

“But –” Cosette started, but Enjolras interrupted her.

“No ‘and’s, ‘if’s, or ‘but’s, Sette. I’m going to be crowned as the future ruler of Solaria, and I want all of you to be there!” He puppy-dog-pouted, blinking his big brown eyes up at her. “It’ll be my birthday…”

Cosette burst out laughing. “Oh, of course I’ll be there! How could I say no to that face?”

 

* * *

 

On the other side of the Magic Dimension, a heavily-armoured airship sped through space. A sign on the side proclaimed it to be armed and carrying dangerous criminals, so all the other airships gave it a wide berth. An announcement echoed through the ship as it approached the airspace of a planet covered in ice – a planet that spun far away from any others.

“Now approaching Omega. Don’t steer any closer to the surface or the ship will freeze.” A guard patrolled past the cells, and his attention was caught by one of the criminals pressing his face against the reinforced window of the tiny prison.

“You’re not sending us to the Omega Dimension?” he asked fearfully. The guard didn’t reply. “Are you?”

The guard shook his head. “No. You’re not nearly evil enough for that.”

Another guard arrived in time to hear this, and shuddered a little himself. “I hear it’s so cold there, your heart freezes into solid ice.”

The first guard grinned devilishly and rapped on the window opposite the cells, behind which was a little bay containing three human-sized capsules. “Sounds rough. Sorry, kids.” As the ship came to a halt, he pressed the button next to the window. The floor dropped away beneath them, and all three pods were dropped from the ship, falling like bombs to the surface of the icy planet below. The ship fled as soon as the capsules were out of sight.

The pods fell through the atmosphere, and then towards a crack in the icy surface. All three passed through into the crevice below, and continued to the bottom, where they pierced the icy ground and stood like three monoliths. The metal outsides fell away, revealing their passengers, who were sealed into blocks of ice – two boys, and one girl.

Almost an hour passed before anything interesting happened. One of the boys, who had white-blond hair and was dressed neatly in a pale blue button-up with jeans and combat boots, suddenly opened his eyes, which were glowing with icy magic. A second later, with a crack like thunder, his icy prison exploded away from him, and he stood free, glaring up at the hole in the ceiling, which was rapidly freezing over. It seemed it had appeared just for them to pass through.

“Thought they could freeze my heart?” he asked the cave, hearing his high, cold voice echoing back to him – _heart… heart… heart…_ “Don’t they know it’s already so cold that _nothing_ can freeze it?” His icy blue eyes glittered as his laughter echoed too, a wicked cackle that sounded more enraged than mirthful.

 

* * *

 

“I sent out an E-vite, Enjolras,” Abby announced, as the Amis helped Enjolras repack his cases. “Now all your friends can RSVP.” Her computer-bracelet pinged, and she grinned. “Combeferre and Azelma say they’ll definitely be there!”

“It’s cool that your dad planned this,” Éponine smiled, folding a pair of black skinny jeans. “Not a lot of dads know how to do stuff like that.”

Enjolras frowned for the first time since getting the news. “ _My_ dad certainly doesn’t know how to do that stuff. It’s my mum who’s the party planner.”

Cosette looked thoughtful. “Maybe she’s helping him?” she suggested, casting a sorting spell on Enjolras’ collection of T-shirts, which neatly split into two piles.

Enjolras’ eyes widened, and he nodded excitedly. “I bet you’re right, Sette! The invitation said it was from the Royal Court, and the Royal Court is the two of them – mum and dad!” He jumped up suddenly, positively bubbling over with excitement. “You know what? I bet they’re getting back together! That must be the surprise announcement!” He pulled Cosette into a tight hug. “Oh, my parents are finally gonna be my parents again! This is fantastic! _And_ I get to have a Crown Ball!” He released Cosette and turned to the clothes still scattered around the courtyard. “No more separate bags for you, clothes!” He snapped his fingers, and all of his clothes packed themselves neatly into one suitcase. “This is a huge deal! And of course I need a new suit for the party. We’re going shopping!”

 

* * *

 

The white-haired boy, whom the reader must have realised was our old friend Babet, stretched, clicking his back into place, before turning to the other two capsules. “Wake up, cousins!” He blasted them with blue light, and the ice on each one exploded immediately. His two cousins fell to their knees, not as accustomed to the cold as he was, and rubbed at their eyes.

“Where… where are we?” the other boy, who had curly purple hair and orange eyes and was, of course, called Gueulemer, panted.

“The Omega Dimension,” Babet said casually, examining his nails.

The only girl, Claquesous, pushed her dark brown hair out of her yellow eyes. “Whoa. That’s the big leagues,” she murmured, sounding awed.

“Yup,” Babet grinned. “Only the worst of the worst get sent here.”

“Cool,” Gueulemer laughed. “I bet everyone is talking about us.”

A hissing noise made them all look up, and two giant ice-blue snakes with dark blue spines protruding from their heads hissed threateningly back from the ceiling. “Hello,” Babet purred. “Looks like we’re not alone.”

“Ice-snakes,” Claquesous said worriedly, adjusting her small spectacles. “They must guard this place.”

A small pterodactyl-like bird swooped into the cave through the only exit – a round hole on the wall leading to an icy tunnel. The ice-snakes hissed, before drawing back their heads and spitting white light at the bird. The bird’s body froze immediately, crashing to the ground and shattering into a thousand pieces. Claquesous and Gueulemer shuddered, but Babet merely tutted. “They think they mean business,” he laughed.

 

* * *

 

The Amis took the bus into Magix City, getting off at the uptown stop, and Courfeyrac checked his phone for updates as they walked down the street towards their favourite pizza parlour. “Here are the latest RSVP’s for your party, Enj,” he announced. “Bahorel and Feuilly are coming –”

“Yay!” said Jehan, and Éponine looked excited too.

“– Grantaire’s coming –”

“Obviously,” Enjolras grinned.

“– Montparnasse is coming too.”

“Did Marius RSVP yet?” Cosette asked worriedly. Courfeyrac shook his head, and she groaned.

“If he gets home before he receives the invitation, his grandfather will never let him come!”

Enjolras held open the door of the pizza parlour, and they all filed in. “Stop worrying, Sette. Marius will be there, I’m sure of it. But for now, let’s have lunch. Then we can really shop properly!”

Lunch was a long time coming. They were early for the lunch hour rush, and the first few pizzas were only just going into the oven, so they had to wait a while before it was ready. At last, though, it was in the box, Enjolras was about to hand over his credit card, and the chef was handing the box over to him – when suddenly, someone snatched it away!

“Excuse me!” Enjolras said angrily. “That’s _our_ pizza!”

The boy who’d taken it glanced haughtily over his shoulder, flicking his dark fringe out of his eyes. “Not anymore,” he said coolly. He was wearing what looked like a prep-school uniform – a mauve blazer, white shirt, pale pink tie and blue trousers with polished black shoes.

“I ordered it,” Enjolras snarled. Cosette saw his shoulders tense, and wondered if she might have to hold him back from cursing the boy. Then again, stealing their pizza meant he was practically _begging_ for a good jinxing.

“And I grabbed it first,” the boy smirked. The chef shrugged apologetically.

“Sorry. It’ll be at least ten minutes before the next one is out.”

“He can just wait,” the obnoxious boy said. Behind him, his friends – two girls, wearing the same uniform but with skirts and pink socks instead of trousers, smirked and tittered. “Like I said, I grabbed it first.”

“Then I’m grabbing it back!” Enjolras let out some sort of war cry, and snatched at the pizza box, digging his nails in. The other boy had a height advantage by about six inches, but Enjolras had the determination advantage, and Cosette felt very glad that there was no truth to the phrase ‘if looks could kill’, because Enjolras’ glare would have definitely left them with a dead body on their hands.

“Let go!”

“No, _you_ let go!”

“Cad!”

“Ponce!”

“Bastard!”

“Arsehole!”

The pizza box was not built to have two teenage boys fighting over it, and it split, sending pizza spattering over both participants. Enjolras gave an enraged yell.

“My shirt!” Enjolras’ neat white T-shirt was spattered with stringy, oily cheese.

“Looks better with mozzarella!” his opponent said snidely, even as his hair dripped with tomato sauce.

They got to their feet, and cast cleaning spells on themselves at the same time – Enjolras with a snap of his fingers, and the other by clapping his hands. “What are you?” the other boy sneered. “Faeries from Musain?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras growled. “So? What are _you?”_

The boy looked offended that Enjolras didn’t know. “We attend the National Academy for Faeries.”

His two lady friends posed as though cheerleading. “Just in case you hadn’t guessed, the National Academy is the best!” they chanted, with identical sneers to Enjolras’ new enemy.

“Where’s the National Academy?” Enjolras sneered back. “The realm of Dumb Chants?”

“At least we’re not from the realm of _Nerd_ ,” the boy sneered back. His friends laughed behind him.

“Snap, snap, snap!” they giggled, snapping their fingers.

Cosette hurriedly intervened. “OK, guys, let’s try to get along,” she smiled at the National Academy Faeries. “Are you guys going shopping?”

One of the girls, who had pink hair in curly high bunches, nodded. “Lucas got us an exclusive invite to a ball on Solaria!”

“No way!” Cosette said excitedly. “Enjolras is the guest of honour at a ball on Solaria!”

“We’re shopping for outfits,” the other girl added. She wore her ginger hair in a long braid, and Jehan smiled at her, playing with their own ginger braid.

“That’s funny, so are we!” they smiled. “It’s really nice to meet Faeries from a different school –”

“Is it?” Lucas said coldly. “ _I_ think it would be nice if you kept your stupid mouth shut. It would be even nicer if you went and got yourself some actual fashion sense.” Enjolras shoved him hard in the chest.

“Don’t you _dare_ talk to them like that!” he spat. “Or I’ll hex you bald!”

Cosette once again found it necessary to intervene. “Come on, Enj, let’s go find you that suit. It was… nice to meet you, Lucas, Lucas’ friends.”

Enjolras couldn’t resist. “And by the way, pizza thief, tomato-sauce orange is a perfect colour for you. You can thank me later –” Cosette yanked him towards where Courfeyrac was holding the door open. Courfeyrac himself wiggled his eyebrows.

“Oh _snap,_ ” he laughed, snapping his fingers in Lucas’ direction. “Come on guys, let’s get out of here.”

“And don’t follow us!” Enjolras shouted over his shoulder, before Cosette forcefully pushed him out of the parlour.

They headed down the street, stopping at a shop called _Glitzmore’s Department Store_ , and it was here that Musichetta and Éponine bade the rest of the group goodbye. “We’re heading to the beach now,” Éponine explained.

“See you guys there,” Musichetta added. They waved, heading towards the bus-stop, and the other four hurried through the automatic doors. Once again the group became smaller: Jehan and Courfeyrac decided to check out floor one first. Enjolras dragged Cosette straight towards an area devoid of racks and shelves, and as they got closer she could see that there were several circular platforms here, glowing with magic, in front of a giant mirror. A sign above the platforms proclaimed it to be the _Virtual Dressing Room._

“This is my favourite way to shop,” Enjolras informed Cosette. “I can try as many outfits as I want on, and I don’t even have to run around looking for anything!” He stepped onto one of the platforms, which lit up gold, and a second later he was wearing a glittery mint green suit with a pale pink ruffled shirt.

“Wicked!” Cosette gasped. Enjolras grinned gleefully.

“Pretty cool, isn’t it? Next!” The next suit was a light lilac-blue colour, with pink accents. “What do you think?”

“Gorgeous!” Cosette grinned. _To be totally honest though,_ she thought, _Enjolras is good-looking enough that he could wear nothing but a robe made from an old bin-bag and still be gorgeous._ “I wanna try!” She stepped onto the platform next to him, and a second later was wearing a ruffled blue ball-gown with one strap. Enjolras wolf-whistled.

“You look beautiful!”

Cosette giggled and twirled, stopping so that she could admire herself in the mirror. “Why, of course, Marius, I’d love to dance with you.” She held out her hand as though being led onto the dance floor, before laughing and turning back to her best friend, who was now wearing a fuchsia suit with a purple ruffled shirt.

“I want something fancy,” he laughed, “but maybe not _this_ fancy… Next!” His suit changed again, now pale yellow with a green shirt. “Maybe not… clashes with my hair.”

Cosette nodded. “Next!” she called, and with a flash, her dress changed to a red glittery strapless number with a slit all the way up to her hip, and white elbow length gloves. “Hmm… maybe if I was cosplaying as Jessica Rabbit,” she laughed. “More modest!”

Her next dress was purple with a blue ruffled skirt – and maybe a little too modest. “Enj…” she said thoughtfully, “Can we try on any outfit?”

Enjolras nodded, turning this way and that in a glittery gold suit with a red shirt. “I like this one,” he said thoughtfully. “Maybe… Huh? Oh yeah, just tell it what sort of outfit you want.”

Cosette grinned. “Make me a rock-star!” A flash of light later, and she was wearing dark pink leather trousers, a tiny black crop-top, heavy black boots, and her hair was streaked with dark pink.

Enjolras whooped. “Oh, cool! I’m trying that!” His next outfit consisted of black leather trousers, black boots with red laces, and a torn purple T-shirt. His hair now had bright blue highlights streaked through it.

They went back to trying on suits and dresses after that, but Enjolras suddenly fell silent, and Cosette looked over at him. Her jaw dropped. Enjolras was wearing a raspberry red suit with a bright blue ruffled shirt, and looked absolutely stunning.

“This is the one,” he said quietly, smiling with delight. “This is the suit I’m wearing to my Crown Ball.”

“You look amazing, Enj,” Cosette gasped. “It’s perfect!”

“It is, isn't it?” Enjolras beamed. He stepped off the platform, and the suit vanished. A computerized voice informed him that he could pick up his suit at _Xerox_ , which Cosette remembered was only a few streets away. “Come on, Sette!” he said excitedly. “We can get your dress afterwards. Let’s go!”

They hurried out of the Virtual Dressing Room, but suddenly Enjolras stopped dead. There, on another platform, was Lucas, and he was wearing –

“That’s _my_ suit!” Enjolras snarled. Lucas turned to him and raised a haughty eyebrow.

“Oh, no. It’s mine. It’s just perfect for me, don’t you think?”

“All the suits at _Xerox_ are exclusive,” Enjolras snapped. “They’re very expensive, and there’s only one of each suit. And _I’m_ getting it first!”

Lucas swaggered towards him, the suit changing back to his National Academy uniform. “Your shoe is untied,” he said unconcernedly. Enjolras glanced down at his red converse, which were both tied perfectly.

“Huh? – GAH!”

Lucas shoved him onto the platform. At the same time, Lucas’ friends grabbed Cosette and pushed her onto another platform. The three National Academy Faeries took off, leaving the two Musain Faeries to struggle away from the platforms, which, now activated, were determined to have them try on at least one outfit before leaving. Lucas glanced back over his shoulder.

“Have fun in the dressing room, Musain Losers!”

 

* * *

 

 

Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer hurried down the ice-tunnel away from the ice-snakes, which were determined to freeze them back into blocks of ice. As they reached an open chamber, Gueulemer turned and blasted lightning at one of the snakes. To his shock, the ice-snake blasted the lightning with the same magic that had frozen the bird earlier, and the frozen lightning bolt fell to the ground and shattered.

“Mer! Let’s go!” Babet yelled, and Gueulemer ran hurriedly after him. The ground was getting steadily icier, until it suddenly turned to pure ice and slanted downwards. Babet was the first onto the ice-slide, and positioned himself like a skateboarder, looking completely unconcerned – indeed, like he might be rather enjoying himself. Claquesous and Gueulemer looked terrified behind him, and the ice-snakes hissed angrily, still pursuing them, but moving slower, as the tunnel was a little tight for them. Eventually they reached the bottom of the tunnel – a good hundred feet ahead of the ice-snakes – and got up to look around.

The chamber was completely empty, except for one thing: an enormous chunk of ice in the centre, taller than any of the Witches, and far thicker than their capsules had been. Barely visible through the sheets of ice was a shadowy figure, about the size of a fully-grown man.

“Whoa,” Claquesous murmured. Babet looked curious.

“Check this out,” he murmured, moving closer. A carved stone plaque was visible near the surface of the ice, and he wiped the frost away from it so as to better read it. “His name’s all blurry through the ice. I can’t read it.”

Gueulemer examined the inscription beneath the name, which was less blurry. “He got sentenced to eternity in the Omega Dimension! He must have done something even worse than us!”

Claquesous wiped more of the frost away, and all three Witches stepped back a little. Without the frost, two glittering black eyes were visible even through the layers of ice. “Do you think he’s awake in there?” she asked, going for a casual tone but missing by about a mile when her voice trembled.

“His eyes are open,” Gueulemer pointed out. “I think he might be.”

“Let’s find out,” Babet suggested. “Yo, frozen dude! Blink once if you can see us!”

Nothing happened, but a hiss behind them told them that the ice-snakes were near the end of the slide. Gueulemer thought hurriedly.

“Maybe if we give them this guy, the ice-snakes will leave us alone,” he suggested. Babet smirked.

“Fabulous idea,” he grinned, and pressed his hands against the man’s icy prison. It took him longer than usual to perform the spell – perhaps because the ice was so thick, but by the time both ice-snakes entered the tunnel, the man was completely free of the ice, which had shattered around him. He stood completely still, blinking in shock, and Patron-Minette took the opportunity to move behind him. Babet shoved him forward. “Sorry, buddy,” he laughed. “It’s you or us.”

The man stumbled forwards as if he’d forgotten how to walk, but stood tall as the ice-snakes reared back their heads. As the first one spat white light at him, he raised his left hand and blasted black light back at it. The black light won out, blasting the snake into pieces, and he shot another beam of light over his left shoulder with his right hand, destroying the other snake before it could even open its mouth. Babet’s jaw dropped.

“Nice moves, ice-man,” he said approvingly.

The man turned, cracking his fingers, then his elbows, shoulders, hips, knees, ankles, and finally his neck. “Thank you,” he said. He was very handsome, with short, shaggy blonde hair, a straight nose, and narrow black eyes. His chin and cheekbones were very sculpted, and his shoulders were broad. He was dressed like a Victorian dandy, in a neat purple suit with a ruffled white shirt, black knee-high boots, dark purple gloves and a wine-red overcoat. His voice was deep and smooth, and surprisingly pleasant to listen to.

“How long were you imprisoned in there?” Gueulemer asked.

The man rolled his shoulders back again, and twisted from side to side, clicking his spine back into place. “Seventeen years,” he replied. Claquesous’ jaw dropped.

“And you were awake the _whole_ time?”

“Yep.”

“That sounds awful!” she shuddered. “I’d be bored out of my mind!”

The man shrugged. “Gives you time to think.”

“About what?” Gueulemer wondered. The man smirked.

“About how you’re going to get your revenge.”

Babet picked up the plaque, which was readable outside the ice. “ _Félix Tholomyès_ ,” he read aloud. “What do you say we break out of this walk-in freezer together, Félix?”

Tholomyés nodded. “Follow me,” he said, still smirking. Babet glared.

“Now, hold on, mister!” he snarled. “You’re cool and you’ve got some nice powers, and if we join forces I’m sure we can get out of here. But do _not_ tell us what to do!”

“Yeah,” Gueulemer added angrily. “That would be a _big_ mistake!”

Tholomyès’ smirk had gone from confident to amused. “Of course,” he said softly. “I would never dream of it.”

 

* * *

 

The second they escaped from the Virtual Dressing Room, Cosette and Enjolras ran for the door. Luckily, it hadn’t taken too long, and Lucas and his friends were visible just down the street. The second Lucas spotted them, he and the two girls broke into a sprint. Enjolras snatched Cosette’s hand and yanked her down an alley. “This way! I know a shortcut!”

“Enj, are you sure about this?” Cosette panted behind him. Enjolras’ brown eyes narrowed.

“I am _going_ to buy that suit!” They left the alley and emerged onto another street, turning right. Cosette glanced back just as Lucas and his friends turned onto the street, about fifty metres behind them. Enjolras laughed madly. “We’re going to get there first!” He turned back to smirk at Lucas. “Later, moron!”

A blast of blue light whizzed past Enjolras’ head, and a second blast just missed Cosette, who groaned. “They’re attacking us over a suit!”

“Then we’ll fight fire with fire!” Enjolras grinned. “Or should I say sunlight? Take _this!”_ He blasted light over his shoulder. Judging from the responding yelp – the same one they’d heard when the pizza had exploded – it had hit Lucas right in the eyes. The two Amis sped up, coming to a crossing, and hurried across just as the light turned red. By the time Lucas caught up, the cars, bikes and buses were whizzing past, too fast for him to be able to risk it. He snarled furiously, raising his hands.

“That’s IT!” Blue light blasted from his hands in mad, uncontrolled bursts. One severed a branch from a tree; another cut a lamppost clean in two. Enjolras cackled.

“Look at him go!”

“Lucas, don’t!” one of the girls squealed. Lucas ignored her, and his next blast hit a balcony on an apartment building. As the concrete was severed away from the wall, a yelping noise hit the Amis’ ears, and Enjolras turned, gasping in horror as he realised what had happened.

“There are two puppies on that balcony! Cosette, they’re going to fall!” Cosette turned around, and they changed course, heading for the crumbling balcony just as it gave way. The puppies plummeted downwards, and Cosette and Enjolras transformed.

“Amis Charmix!”

A second later, Cosette wore her blue halter-top, skirt, boots and arm-warmers, with her golden tiara fastened in her hair, her topaz heart-shaped pin on her chest and her pink fluffy bag secured around her waist. Enjolras wore his red one-strapped top, shorts and boots, with black cuffs on his wrists and a black headband, and his hair was tied back in a ponytail with a red band. His ruby mirror-shaped pin glinted on the strap of his top, and his black-and-red moon bag appeared around his hips. White and gold wings respectively protruded from their shoulder blades.

Cosette conjured a safety net, and Enjolras pulled his ring off his finger. The ring instantly transformed into the sceptre of Solaria, made of shiny black metal with a large orb at the top surrounded by several smaller red orbs. “Speed of Sunlight!” he shouted, and yellow light issued from his sceptre, which sent the net speeding towards the two puppies, catching them about fifteen feet above the ground. It slowly lowered them down, and Cosette and Enjolras hurried forwards to make sure they were okay. The larger puppy leapt into Cosette’s arms, licking her face, while the smaller greeted Enjolras with similar delight.

“You’re OK,” Cosette cooed. “You’re OK now!”

“You’re perfectly safe,” Enjolras giggled. His puppy licked his face again. “Awww!”

They returned the puppies to their owner (who fixed the balcony with a click of her fingers and roll of her eyes) and said goodbye to the little dogs, before hurrying off to _Xerox_. As soon as they were through the doors, Enjolras flung himself onto the counter.

“I’d like the raspberry red suit,” he panted in the direction of the rather concerned-looking salesgirl. “It’s made of –”

“Satin,” a smug voice interrupted him, and he turned to see Lucas holding up a suit bag. “And it comes with a ruffled blue shirt.” He sneered again. “Later, Musain loser!”

Enjolras turned to the salesgirl, looking furious. “You sold that suit to _him?”_ he yelped. “But I’m the Prince of Solaria! It was for my Crown Ball!”

The salesgirl frowned. “That’s odd. He said _he_ was the Prince of Solaria!”

“Wh… what?!” Enjolras’ jaw dropped. Cosette frowned too.

“Are you sure?”

The salesgirl bit her lip. “Well… he said he wasn’t the Prince of Solaria yet, but that he would be very soon.”

Enjolras and Cosette exchanged wide-eyed glances. This was weird, even for the Magic Dimension.

 

* * *

 

Tholomès led Patron-Minette through the tunnels of the Omega dimension until they came to a cavern with a floor that spiralled down like a ramp. “This is the gate to Andros,” he explained to them. “All I need is for you to make a crack in it, then I can use my magic to get us out of here.”

“Easy-peasy,” Babet smirked. “Cousins?” The three Witches blasted light at the bottom of the ramp at the same time, but to their shock, the ramp flung it back at them, sending them crashing into the wall. Tholomyès raised his eyebrows.

“It’s protected by a magic shield,” he said, as calmly as if he was discussing the weather.

A hissing noise behind them made them turn. Another ice-snake had arrived, and Babet grinned as an idea came to him. “I know how we can get around that… hey, snake-eyes! Over here!”

“What are you doing?!” Gueulemer shrieked as Babet took to the air. The ice-snake chased him, looking as though it would have dearly liked to bite Babet in two.

Babet flew over to the other side of the ramp. “Come on, slimy!” he taunted the ice-snake. “Give me your best shot!”

The ice-snake spat its freezing blast at him just as he formed an ice-shield. The ice-snake’s blast hit the bottom of the ramp, which began to shake, and Claquesous and Gueulemer took to the air too, realising Babet’s plan.

“Now hit it with everything you’ve got!” Babet yelled. Claquesous and Gueulemer released blasts of purple and green light respectively, and with a noise like a gunshot a crack appeared in the floor.

“Perfect,” Tholomyès smiled. He jumped down next to Babet as he landed and the ice-snake reared back, hissing. “I like your style.”

Babet flushed pink, pleased. “You’re not so bad yourself,” he winked.

Tholomyès flashed him a cheeky smirk, before pressing his hand against the crack and closing his eyes to focus. Black light crackled, sparks flying everywhere.

 

* * *

 

 

On the other side of the portal was an island that spiralled upwards the same way the Omega Dimension spiralled downwards. It was a real island, full of caves and tunnels, but at the very top was the portal to the Omega Dimension. Unable to be opened by anyone but one of the Great Wizards of Andros, you wouldn’t have known it was a portal unless you had been told. The mermaid guards stationed in the waters around the island knew, and as black light blasted out from the top of the mountain like a volcanic eruption, they knew something was very wrong.

“The Omega Dimension gate!” one of them screamed. “Someone is trying to break out –” A bolt of black light hit her in the neck, and she collapsed, unconscious. More bolts hit her fellow guards, and soon all of them were out cold. Where the black light had touched them, a strange symbol appeared: it looked like a circle, inside which was a backwards F attached to a T, and it glowed scarlet in the dim light. The second it had fully formed, the mermaids’ angelic faces began twisting into monstrous shapes…

On the other side of the portal, Tholomyès grinned with satisfaction. “Now that they are my minions,” he explained to Patron-Minette, “their power is my power. The mermaids of Andros Undersea are now _mine!”_

 

* * *

 

Cosette, Enjolras, Jehan and Courfeyrac changed into swimsuits and headed to the beach, where they found Musichetta and Éponine sunbathing on their towels. “Hey guys!” Enjolras shouted cheerfully, and the two girls sat up and waved them over. “Hey Éponine… you look different!”

Indeed, Éponine’s dark hair, which was normally tied tightly into two little buns on either side of her head, was now worn in high bunches, and curled at the tips. Her dark fringe still covered her right eye, but it was a very good look for her. She laughed, shrugging. “Just trying out a new style. So, how did your shopping go? Can we see your new suit?”

“Here?” Éponine nodded, and Enjolras sighed resignedly, although he seemed to actually be quite enjoying himself. “Well, okay!” He raised his right hand above his head, and just like the virtual dressing room, his new suit was projected onto him. With the raspberry suit gone, he’d chosen the gold suit with the red shirt, which glittered more than ever in the bright sunlight.

“Wow!” Musichetta gasped. “You look brilliant!”

Éponine nodded, and Enjolras preened. He gave them a twirl letting them see the suit from all angles, before letting the projection vanish. “It _is_ nice, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Oh, but you should have seen the one that got away!”

“Come on, Enj!” Cosette said. “You’re having a Crown Ball for your birthday, your parents are getting back together, and we’re on holiday! How could things be any better?”

“Well,” said a familiar voice behind them, “maybe if we were here?”

“Grantaire!” Enjolras beamed, immediately running to embrace him. Grantaire waved at the other Faeries, and they realised that standing next to him were Feuilly, Combeferre, Bahorel, and – Cosette’s heart skipped a beat – Marius!

Jehan and Feuilly were hugging, Courfeyrac was on his tiptoes to kiss Combeferre hello, and Bahorel had one arm around Éponine’s waist and one around a boombox, of all things, which was playing soft guitar music. Cosette hurried over to Marius, smiling brightly.

“Marius! I – I thought you went back to Eraklyon!”

Marius took her hand and kissed the back of it. “I was almost there when I got Enjolras’ invite,” he smiled, “so I turned straight back around.” He pulled her into a hug. “I would never miss a chance to be your date to a party like this one.”

Cosette hugged him back. “I’m so sorry we had that stupid argument,” she sighed, and Marius nodded.

“Me too. Sorry for blowing things out of proportion.”

Combeferre interrupted the tender moment by swinging a picnic basket in the air. “How about a cookout, guys? We have burgers, hotdogs, and marshmallows!”

Bahorel held up his boombox. “And music,” he added cheerfully.

The Faeries all nodded – except Musichetta, who was frowning out at the ocean. “Guys, something’s wrong,” she said seriously.

Bahorel nodded in agreement. “I know. This channel isn’t nearly rock-n-roll enough.”

Musichetta shook her head. “No, I mean something’s wrong with the ocean.” The Amis turned towards the water, which was boiling and frothing in the shallows, while further out –

“Is that a tidal wave?” Jehan gasped. People who had been out swimming were hurrying back to shore, but not all of them were able to move quickly – some were trapped in the current, while others weren’t strong enough swimmers to move more than a few feet in the water.

Cosette took charge. “This is serious. Amis Charmix!”

With a flash, the six Faeries were transformed. Jehan wore a pink playsuit with light pink sleeves, pink ankle boots, and a green choker with a pink flower and a matching pink flower clip in their hair. They wore a silver pin that swirled across their chest with a Rhodolite garnet in the centre, a rose-shaped hip-bag, and their wings were green and leaf-shaped.

Éponine wore a one-strapped yellow dress with a blue mesh midriff, yellow knee-high boots, blue armbands on her upper arms, and yellow headphones. Her pin was shaped like a treble clef, with a sapphire tail, and her blue bag was actually a small portable music player. Her wings were blue and more traditionally Faery-like, two on each side and rounded at the tips with the lower ones a little shorter than the upper ones.

Courfeyrac had green triangular wings, and wore a lilac playsuit with purple sleeves. He had pale blue fingerless gloves and matching knee-high boots, and a pale blue headband holding his fringe out of his face, with a tear-drop-shaped emerald in the centre. He had a triangular emerald pin in the centre of his chest, and his hip-bag was a dark-blue transmitter.

Musichetta wore a tube-top that was two tones of green, with a green strap over her right shoulder and one across her midriff from left to right, connecting to a light green skirt over green shorts. One of her boots was light green and the other green, and she also wore a silver choker with matching bracelets – three on her right arm and one on her left wrist. Her wings were light blue and raindrop-shaped, her amethyst pin was shaped like a shell, and around her waist was a pink gourd-shaped purse.

“Hold back the wave!” Cosette shouted. Together the six Faeries fluttered into the air and blasted light at the tidal wave, forcing it to stop moving towards the beach. Meanwhile, the five Wizards – who were all strong swimmers – plunged into the sea and began helping people to safety. Grantaire used his water powers to force the current away from a tweenage girl before pulling her to safety, and Bahorel carried a small girl of about five over to her mother. Feuilly helped an eight-year-old boy out of the water, and Marius and Combeferre helped two teenagers who had been struggling next to where the wave had stopped. Luckily, they’d got everyone out before the Faeries’ spell gave out and the wave began rushing towards the beach again – wait. Someone was screaming for help! Musichetta turned to see a little girl in a yellow duck-shaped inflatable ring struggling to swim for the shore – and the wave was closing in on her!

“I’ve got you!” she yelled, and plunged into the water. Being the Faery of Waves gave her an advantage in being able to see underwater, and she easily swum over to the girl, wrapping an arm around her waist. “Don’t worry, you’re safe with me,” she assured the child, who was sobbing with fear. “Come on, let’s surf back to shore!” With a snap of her fingers, her magic mixed with the water, forming a Morphix surfboard, and Musichetta jumped on, still cradling the girl, and easily rode the wave back to shore. Thankfully, the tidal wave calmed before it hit the beach, and she was able to step out of the water and carry the little girl back to her relieved parents.

As the crowd of onlookers cheered, the Wizards began wringing out their shirts. “Always nice to take a swim,” Marius joked, tipping a crab out of his shoe. Enjolras shuddered, squeezing the water out of his hair. Even though Musichetta had started teaching him to swim, he was still nervous of any body of water bigger than the shallow end of Lake Roccaluce.

“That wave was definitely not a natural occurrence,” Courfeyrac frowned, and Combeferre nodded.

“You can say that again.”

“What do you think caused it?” Feuilly asked.

“A dimensional shockwave,” Musichetta explained. “A wave like _that_ could only mean one thing: something terrible has happened to the heart of all oceans.” Just then, the water bubbled, and everyone turned fearfully in case it was a second wave, but a second later, a head popped up out of the water, followed by shoulders, arms and a torso. It was a young woman with long blonde hair, dark skin, sea-green eyes with long lashes, and wings shaped like fish fins on her back. She wore a pink top and a necklace of pearls, and there were more pearls strewn through her hair. Cosette got the funniest feeling that she didn’t have legs.

“Yarn Nansrkkm,” the girl said, and Musichetta inexplicably raised her hand, hurrying forward. The girl continued, “Aa hpaa ey! Npna saseea sn smyy, s r sk sn mp as k pnadm ykme mapn! K damamn, assmkaame n m smyy kn! Hpaa ymakn na im hpa, paa yeak s hpa!”

“What did she say?” Enjolras asked, looking thoroughly confused. Musichetta turned to him, looking fearful.

“I was right,” she said quietly. “Something awful has happened on Andros, my home planet. I have to go there!”

Éponine stepped forwards. “We’re coming too, Chetta!” she started, but Musichetta shook her head.

“You can’t. I have to go through the ocean. My people need me, and it’s the quickest route.” She ran into the shallows, diving into the water as soon as it got deep enough to swim. Her scarlet hair swooshed out behind her as she swam over to the girl. As soon as she reached her, she turned back and waved to the Amis. “Goodbye!”

The Amis all waved back worriedly, and the girl next to her slipped under the water. Cosette caught a glimpse of a shimmering blue fishtail before Musichetta dived beneath the waves after her.

 

* * *

 

 

Patron-Minette transformed into their Witch forms before Félix Tholomyès led them out of the portal, and they gazed upon the transformed mermaids, which now had green, lizard-like faces and long jaws. “Minions everywhere,” Babet grinned. “Not bad, Tholomyés.”

Tholomyès laughed. “Please, call me Félix. And this? This is nothing. This is only just the beginning…”


	2. In Which King Nicolas Drops A Huge Bombshell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Musichetta has returned home to Andros to fight a mysterious threat, while Cosette and Enjolras travel to Solaria to prepare for Enjolras' Crown Ball. Meanwhile, Félix Tholomyès finds a way to recharge his powers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this time round, I have an actual updating schedule. There will be a new chapter every Tuesday, or on Wednesday if I run late, hopefully avoiding a six-month hiatus like last time. Enjoy!

It wasn’t long before the rain started on Andros; not normal rain, but instead vicious, slanting rain the same colour as the ocean, which had turned muddy green and was swirling angrily around the Omega Island. Two heads broke the surface; one with purple hair and one with pink, both with dark skin and green eyes with frond-like lashes. The pink-haired one was apparently unconscious in the other’s arms, her friend struggling to hold her up.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered in their native language. “I’ve got you –” she pulled them both back under the water as a tidal wave crashed over their heads, knowing her friend was nowhere near strong enough to survive so much water crashing down on top of her. “We’ll get through this,” she murmured as they resurfaced again. She lashed her tail against the waves, the wing-like fins on her back splashing the surface to keep her above water, and stroked her companion’s cheek. “I think the worst is over –”

She’d spoken too soon. A second tidal wave was rushing towards them, even bigger than the first, and would almost certainly dash them against the rocks whether they were above the water or under it. The purple-haired girl curled protectively over the other, closing her eyes tightly –

But the tidal wave never hit them. She opened her eyes in confusion and gasped as she saw the pink translucent shield in front of them, holding the water away. This could only be the work of one Faery: “Princess Musichetta!”

The red-haired Princess fluttered above them, raising her hands and concentrating. The shield slipped under the water, and the two girls felt it rising into the air beneath them, lifting them clear of the frothing sea. A silvery airship with violet wings lowered next to them, and Musichetta raised the shield towards a door at the side, which slid open for them to enter. The girls were immediately lifted up by two guards in purple-blue uniforms, who expertly supported their silvery tails – clearly they had been doing this for a while. Musichetta smiled at the girls before turning to the guards and saying something in a language the girls only vaguely understood. The guards nodded before the Princess flew out the door again and the guards carried them further into the ship.

Musichetta hovered over the Omega Island with narrowed eyes, scanning the sea for anyone else who needed help. _Something dark and terrible has arrived on Andros, and I will defend my people from it at all costs._

 

* * *

 

 

Something dark and terrible had indeed arrived on Andros, but when the storm had started it had quickly retreated inside the island to avoid the rain. That dark and terrible something was, of course, Félix Tholomyès and the three Witches who called themselves Patron-Minette, and as Musichetta searched the seas, Tholomyès led his lackies through the tunnels of the island to a sort of underwater window, and they watched in amusement as three unblemished mermaids backed away from two corrupted mermaid guards.

“Sisters,” one of the unblemished ones gasped in horror, “what has happened to you?”

“They can’t hear you, Dwynwen!” another whimpered. “They’re not themselves!”

“No, they’re not,” Tholomyès grinned. He spoke in perfect Mermish, and the three mermaids turned towards the window in horror, noticing him for the first time. “They wear my mark and so they are my minions – and now, you will join them!” he raised his hand to the glass, and black light seeped through into the sea, forming the circular insignia on the mermaids’ necks. They screamed and writhed briefly, before suddenly going still, their faces mutating into bony, skull-esque visages with mad yellow eyes, and their bodies becoming skeletal while their hands became claw-like. Their dark skin turned greenish, and they snarled viciously, revealing sharp fangs, making Tholomyès grin back.

“Love their new looks,” said an amused voice behind him, and he turned towards Patron-Minette, who all looked delighted at the display of magic. “Fangs, claws, discoloured skin… it’s really working for them,” Babet continued, chuckling.

Tholomyès smirked lazily. “I’m glad you approve. Now come with me; I’ve found what we were looking for.”

The three Witches followed him eagerly down the roughly hewn stone steps, Gueulemer almost tripping over himself with excitement. “You busted out of the Omega Dimension, conquered Andros, and now you’ve found the Interdimensional Portal!” he gushed. “I love it!” Claquesous and Babet both raised their eyebrows at him, and he hurriedly tacked on, “I mean, _we_ love it.”

Tholomyès chuckled. “You’re too kind,” he said smoothly, and Gueulemer’s cheeks turned pink. “However, I’m only just getting warmed up.” He led them into a tunnel and stopped at the dead end – a wall with a large X carved into it. “All these years in the Omega Dimension have weakened me,” he mused, “but not for long. I _will_ get it all back. Once I’ve regained my power, I’ll be strong enough to conquer the whole Universe.” He raised his hand, and with a flash of black light, a map of the Magic Dimension’s planets appeared on the tunnel walls. “I can reach every planet and every Dimension through this portal. One by one, the major kingdoms will fall, as will every minor kingdom and society in between. I will absorb their magic power and become the supreme master of all living things. I will spread my mark to every being who stands in my way, and the reign of Félix Tholomyès will begin!”

“But you’re already super-powerful!” Babet pointed out. “You can conquer them all now!”

“I appreciate the flattery, my dear,” Tholomyès smirked, “but no, I cannot. Not yet. To regain my full strength, I need the power of the Sun. And lucky for me, the Sun always shines on Solaria…” The portal started to glow.

 

* * *

 

At Musain, the Amis were blissfully unaware of Tholomyès’ plans; indeed, they had another problem to deal with.

“It’s no use, Cosette,” Courfeyrac said sadly. “I’ve called her, texted her, emailed her, messaged her on every app available – I even tried to hack her phone signal. She’s completely off the grid.”

“There’s got to be some way of contacting her,” Cosette urged. “Keep trying.”

Enjolras poked his head into the room. “Still no news from Musichetta?”

Cosette shook her head, and followed him into the main room of their apartment. Jehan and Éponine were sitting on the sofa, both looking worried, and Jehan was picking at their cuticles. “I bet she’s underwater,” they said quietly. “That’s where the trouble is. She’s probably too busy to head to the surface to text us.” Wolter hopped onto the table, and Enjolras hurriedly shifted the package containing his suit away from the bunny.

“No shedding near my suit,” he said sternly. “My party is tomorrow. I need to look perfect.”

Cosette faked looking shocked. “There’s a party? For you? Why did no one tell me?”

“Hang on,” Éponine said thoughtfully. “I think I remember him mentioning it once…”

“Twice…” Jehan added.

“A few times –”

“Every few minutes –”

Enjolras pouted, looking like a grumpy golden kitten. “Hilarious,” he humphed, although a smile was threatening to crawl onto his face. “Maybe you’ll think _this_ is funny too…” and with that he flung a pillow into Éponine’s face. Éponine giggled, catching it.

“Not as funny as this!” She threw the pillow right back at him, hitting him in the face.

“Yes, very funny,” Enjolras snorted, throwing the pillow back onto the couch. “So funny I might forget to put you on the guest list.” He poked his tongue out, joking, and Éponine laughed. Meanwhile, Cosette was grabbing her suitcase and Wolter’s basket. The Piskies had decided to stay at Musain rather than go to the party, so it was just Wolter travelling with her. Enjolras raised his eyebrows at Jehan and Éponine, who were still lazing on the couch. “You guys ready?”

Éponine shook her head. “We’re going with the Wizards tomorrow; still got some last minute shopping to do.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Guess it’s just you and me, Sette.” He pointed his finger at his pile of luggage, which shrunk into a single suitcase the size of a guitar pick with a burst of golden light. Cosette’s jaw dropped at the advanced magic.

“Is that all your luggage?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras grinned. “It’s a ‘travel light’ spell. Buckle up, Sette…” he pulled his ring off his finger, transforming it into his sceptre. “To Solaria!” They vanished from the room, into the tunnel made of pure light. Cosette was used to travelling by sceptre now, but she still wasn’t great at making a graceful landing, and toppled over as they landed on a sandstone path. She picked herself up, turning and gazing around, and her eyes widened as she drank in the view.

Directly in front of them was a golden palace covered in stained glass windows that sparkled in the bright sunlight. Surrounding the palace were great grassy gardens that stretched over to a tree line, and opposite the palace was a path leading away to a city of white villas with terracotta roofs, and beyond that a sparkling aquamarine ocean.

Enjolras had landed perfectly beside her, and drank in the view as eagerly as she did, overjoyed to be home. “Solaria is the most beautiful in the summer,” he said softly. “I’m really glad you get to see it too, Sette.”

“Jojo!” said a delighted voice behind them, and they turned to see a tall man in his late fifties, with broad shoulders and curly gingery blond hair that was staring to grey a little. His beard was neatly trimmed, hinting at a sharp jawline, his nose was straight – almost Ancient Grecian – and his eyes were the same warm golden brown as Enjolras’, crinkled at the edges as he smiled. He wore a luxurious white silk suit with a long red cape, and a golden crown.

“Dad!” Enjolras beamed, running to hug the man, who easily lifted his tiny frame off the ground.

Out of their sight, a woman watched the scene from a window, before letting the red velvet drapes fall back into place and turning away.

Two guards emerging from the castle in gold and blue uniforms, one hurrying over to pick up Cosette’s luggage for her, while the other bowed to Enjolras. “Your luggage, your highness?”

Enjolras pulled away from his father with a smile. “Oh, yeah!” He pulled the minute suitcase out of his pocket and handed it to the guard. “The travel light spell should wear off in an hour or so.” The guard nodded in relief that he wouldn’t have to move six suitcases to Enjolras’ room, and both guards headed inside. Cosette hurriedly curtsied to Enjolras’ father.

“It’s an honour to meet you, your majesty,” she said, and the king laughed.

“No need for that, Cosette. Please call me King Nicolas. Enjolras has told me so much about you; I am very glad he has a friend like you. Please, make yourself at home here.”

“Thank you, King Nicolas,” Cosette smiled, glancing up at the palace. _There sure is a lot of home to make myself at home in…_

‘A lot’ turned out to be an understatement. Cosette’s jaw practically hit the floor when they stepped into the entrance hall. “My whole house could fit in this room,” she said in amazement.

Enjolras laughed. “We’ll give you a map so you don’t get lost.” He linked arms with her. “Come on; I’ll show you to your suite – but first, I’ll give you the grand tour!”

And grand it was! Enjolras showed her through hallways with golden wallpaper, rooms lined with ancient paintings, and gardens full of the greenest grass Cosette had ever seen. She saw the main hall, which was four stories high and had a huge golden fountain in the centre, featuring a statue of Goldie, Enjolras’ ancestor; and then hundreds of balconies with sandstone pillars and ancient stained glass doors that gave them a beautiful view over the town. Enjolras finally led her down a hall of beautiful tapestries to a plaster wall painted pale green, with a carving of the moon and the sun. He pressed the centre of the sun, which spun to the right and caused the whole wall to swing away from them, revealing a hidden room!

“I saved the best for last,” he grinned. “Welcome to the Hall of the Universe.” They stepped through, and Cosette immediately felt that she didn’t have enough eyes to take in the amazing sight. At least three stories tall with walls painted to look like the night sky, a spinning golden sculpture stretched from floor to ceiling with spindly branches spiralling off it, and at the end of each one was a tiny coloured planet. Each branch rotated at a different speed around the sun in the centre, which was bigger than a basketball and glowed exactly like the real sun.

“There’s a model of every planet in the Magic Dimension in here,” Enjolras said softly. “It’s always been my favourite room in the entire castle.”

Cosette’s eyes were immediately drawn to a planet with an almost entirely black surface. It was covered in odd white cracks, and barely rotated at all. “What’s that planet?”

Enjolras’ face became sad. “Actually, that’s… that’s _your_ planet, Cosette.”

“Domino,” Cosette whispered. “Has it always been like that?”

“For as long as I can remember,” Enjolras replied quietly. “Dad says it… it used to be different. Brighter. One of the greenest planets in the entire Dimension.”

“But now it’s all burnt out.” _Burnt out, covered in ice, and my people murdered. My mother’s body destroyed. My house torn apart. My home… gone._

“It won’t be like that forever,” Enjolras said, softly but firmly. “We’ll fix it, and we’ll find the rest of your family.” He took her hand. “But that’s a mission for another day. Today’s mission, and tomorrow’s mission, and, knowing what Solarian balls are like, probably the day after tomorrow’s mission too, is to party hard.”

Cosette smiled, squeezing his hand. “You’re right. Happy future birthday, Enj.”

They left the Hall of the Universe and headed through the corridors to find the suite where Cosette would be staying, and Enjolras linked arms with her. “No worrying about anything right now, OK? Don’t fixate on it. We’re going to have an amazing time tomorrow and no one can stop us.”

 

* * *

 

 

At that moment, a little way down the path up to the palace, the air warped and a man appeared out of thin air – a man who had a very good chance of stopping any fun from happening. He took a moment to breathe in the fresh summer air, before heading up to the castle and passing through a stained glass window as if he was intangible. He was now in a corridor, and hurriedly ducked behind a red velvet curtain as he heard two voices approaching.

“And this room’s full of presents for you?” said a girl – young, probably in her late teens.

“Yep!” replied a boy, similarly young-sounding. “Check it out!” The sound of a door opening, then the girl spoke again.

“Wow… that sure is a lot of paperwork.”

“It’s great, isn’t it?” the boy said excitedly. “I told my dad that instead of material possessions, I wanted people to donate to good causes of their choice. Look at some of these!” Silence, then the sound of someone riffling through papers. “People have made donations to save endangered species, restore buildings, make places like museums and historic sites more accessible to both physically and mentally disabled people… it’s wonderful!”

“That’s amazing!” the girl said excitedly. “And so many people have donated. If you added together everyone I knew back home, including people I only met once or twice, and asked them for the same thing, you wouldn’t even get half as much contribution.” They sounded a little more muffled, and Félix Tholomyès – for that was, of course, the identity of the mysterious man – took the opportunity to peer out from behind the curtain. To his curiosity, there was a boy standing outside the only open door, peering in, but it wasn’t the boy who had been talking, because this one’s mouth was tight shut, and the girl was nowhere in sight. He had dark hair and pinched features, and wore a maroon polo-shirt with khaki shorts and deck shoes. There was a pale sort of anger on the boy’s face, and he was curled around the doorframe, obviously trying to stay out of sight of the room’s occupants. _An eavesdropper… Interesting…_

“There are a few re-gifted things as well,” the boy in the room was saying. “Y’know, family heirlooms, old jewels, and I’ll get my own crown of Solaria tomorrow.”

The eavesdropping boy turned away from the door, clenching his fists. “Spoiled brat!” he muttered, only just loud enough for Tholomyès to catch it. He glanced back into the room as the first boy’s laughter echoed out.

“I don’t even know what to do with most of the antique stuff!”

“What are you doing here?!” a woman snapped, and Tholomyès nearly jumped, wondering if she was talking to him, but no, it was the eavesdropping boy who looked suddenly guilty. As the woman came into his line of view, Tholomyès analysed her appearance. _Blonde… tanned… perm… late fifties… skin and hair kept youthful-looking by magic… vain… unable to age gracefully. Lavender and plum dress… pearls sewn into hems… no, not real pearls. Fake. Cloak lined with white faux-fur… wealthy, but wishes to appear wealthier… or it could just be that she doesn’t want to wear real fur in this heat. Heavy makeup… but well-applied… rich enough to hire a maid. Carries herself well – clearly trained in etiquette. Could be useful…_

“Mother!” the eavesdropping boy stuttered. “I was… just…”

“A young man of noble birth does not lurk about in corridors!” the woman scolded him. She glanced into the room he’d been lurking by, and huffed a little. “You may have more nobility in your little finger than that pampered Prince Enjolras, and you would make a far better Prince of Solaria, but that does not excuse you from the rules of common courtesy!”

“But instead I’ll be Enjolras’ poor little step-brother forever,” the boy said bitterly. “King Nicolas will always prefer him over me.”

“A father’s love for his son is hard to overcome,” the woman said, smirking, “unless…” and Tholomyès realised he was intrigued to hear what she’d say next, “it’s by a mother’s love for her own son.” _Interesting. **Very** interesting._ “Watch me and learn.”

The woman stepped through the door of the room, out of sight, and after a moment’s deliberation, her son followed her.

 

* * *

 

“See that box?” Enjolras was saying. “That belonged to my great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great, great… uh… a few more greats, great grandfather. It contains the scroll of the first laws of Solaria.”

“Amazing!” Cosette said in awe, gazing up at the pretty golden box on a high shelf. Someone cleared their throat behind them, and the two turned to see a lavishly dressed woman smiling at them.

“Aah, Prince Enjolras,” she said grandly, extending her hand. “Lovely to see you again.”

Enjolras bowed politely and kissed the woman’s hand. “Countess Giselle. The pleasure is all mine.”

Countess Giselle smiled, although it didn’t seem to reach her eyes, and turned to Cosette. “And I don’t believe I’ve met your friend before. Or is it girlfriend?”

Cosette shook her head. “I’m Enjolras’ best friend from school, Countess. Cosette Valjean. It’s lovely to meet you.”

The Countess tilted her head to the side (nodding? Cosette wasn’t sure) before turning and picking up a small velvet box. “Aah, here's the present I got you. I hope you like it.” She opened it, and Cosette winced at the bright reflection coming off what seemed to be a set of solid gold cufflinks.

“They’re lovely, Countess,” Enjolras smiled politely, before frowning a little. “But didn’t you hear my father’s announcement that I would have preferred a donation to charity or good cause?”

Countess Giselle laughed, throwing her head back. “Oh, your highness, your naivety is amusing.” Cosette glanced at Enjolras, noticing how his face twitched a little in annoyance at the implication that donating to charity was childish. The Countess smiled at him the way one would smile at a toddler. “My son picked it out; he has excellent taste for these sorts of things. I don’t think you’ve met him; he attends the National Academy for Faeries. Lucas?”

A boy about their own age stepped out from behind his mother, and Cosette and Enjolras both gasped in recognition. Cosette glanced at Enjolras again, and his face was morphing from shock to fury.

“YOU!” he snarled, making Countess Giselle nearly drop the cufflinks in surprise. “You’re the one who stole my suit!”

The boy grinned nervously. “Small world, isn’t it?” he chuckled, unable to keep a tremor out of his voice. Cosette wondered if he was regretting his decision to buy the suit upon finding out exactly _who_ he’d beaten to it.

“What’s going on?” Countess Giselle said in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

Cosette smiled awkwardly. “Let’s just say there was a bit of a misunderstanding a few days ago when they met on Magix and discovered they had the same taste in clothes.”

Enjolras was so angry his eyes were glowing with golden sparks, and he seemed to have forgotten how to speak. Lucas gave him an apologetic smile, shaking a little. “I didn’t realise how much you wanted it. Of course, the royal Prince of Solaria should have any suit he wishes for. You can have it.”

Enjolras made a furious noise in the back of his throat, and speech finally erupted out of his mouth. “You keep it! I don’t wear your hand-me-downs!”

Lucas blanched, before two angry spots of red appeared on his cheeks, and he turned and stormed out of the room with a snarl, heading down the corridor. Enjolras stormed after him, but went the other way, and Cosette smiled apologetically at Countess Giselle.

“It may not look like it now, but this could possibly be the start of a lasting and meaningful friendship,” she said hopefully, but she knew that if anything, it was the opposite.

 

* * *

 

 

“Out of my way!” Lucas barked at a footman, knocking the beautiful silver tray out of his hands. The footman yelped, hurrying to pick up the tray, and Lucas glared at him for a moment before continuing down the corridor. _You’re royal, alright, Enjolras,_ he thought to himself. _A royal pain! But I’ll get you, I swear I will!_ He didn't notice an unfamiliar man peek out at him from behind a curtain with a smirk on his face.

 

* * *

 

**The next day…**

“Cosette! Cosette, wake up! We overslept!” Cosette groaned and rolled over in bed checking her alarm clock.

“Enj, it’s four in the morning!”

“Exactly!” Enjolras said excitedly. “There are only ten hours before my party, and we’ve got a ton of stuff to do!” He clicked his fingers, and Cosette’s bed tipped her onto the floor. She mewled pathetically and grasped for the covers, but Enjolras levitated them out of her reach.

“We’ve got appointments at the salt-baths and the sauna, and then breakfast, a mani-pedi, and hair, and lunch, and makeup, and _then_ we have to get dressed. Your clothes are in the wardrobe, right? You’ll need a swimsuit.”

“Mmhmm,” Cosette murmured, curling into a ball on the floor and wishing her frilly pyjama shorts and vest were warmer. Enjolras was going through her clothes, and eventually held up the bikini she’d bought for their holiday to Resortia last year.

“Get dressed, I’ll be back in five minutes,” he said, still sounding ridiculously excited for someone awake at four in the morning.

It really shouldn’t have surprised him as much as it did when he came back in five minutes to find Cosette fast asleep with the bikini top draped over her face like an eyemask.

 

* * *

 

In retrospect, Cosette was actually quite glad she’d eventually managed to get up to go to the saltbath and the sauna. The last time she’d felt so relaxed had been on a holiday to a Swiss mountain spa with her father when she was fourteen. Breakfast on Enjolras’ balcony was amazing too – strange zingy-tasting fruits she didn’t recognise and delicious chocolate pastries shaped like miniature suns, with cool iced coffee to follow. Then it was on to mani-pedis and nail polish choices (red for Enjolras, dark pink for Cosette) and hair-dos .The hairdresser twisted Enjolras’ hair back from his face, which in Cosette’s opinion made him look like a tiny, neater version of Chris Hemsworth in the _Avengers_ series. Enjolras asked her to hold up a mirror behind him while he stood in front of the looking-glass so he could see his hair from all angles, but suddenly he yanked her onto the floor with a cry of “DUCK!”

Cosette looked up in shock as a blast of blue light hit the looking-glass and rebounded towards its caster. A scream with a quality that was rapidly becoming familiar told them it was Lucas, and Enjolras shook his head, tutting. “He really has some jealousy problems, doesn’t he?”

Lucas himself was currently tied up in his own hair, which had grown to waist-length and was thrashing about like snakes. He scrambled away from the salon, hoping Enjolras hadn’t seen him in this undignified state, and promptly collided with a butler carrying a tray of Solarian crème-brûlées, sending the custard, caramel, and fruit topping everywhere – but mostly over Lucas’ hair. The butler looked furious, and Lucas wailed pathetically. At least the desserts had made his hair stop attacking him.

 

* * *

 

All too soon it was time for lunch in the enormous dining hall, where Cosette and Enjolras ate golden prawns in spicy fried rice with glasses of sweet pink fruit juice, accompanied by King Nicolas. There was supposed to have been crème-brûlées for dessert, the king told them, but it had been cancelled at the last moment due to ‘unforeseen circumstances’. And anyway, there would be an enormous buffet at the ball, so it was no real loss.

 

* * *

 

The unforeseen circumstance that had caused the loss of the crème-brûlées had led to another unforeseen circumstance: that being that Lucas would not have enough time to wash the custard out of his hair before the party started. So naturally, he headed to his mother’s chambers to complain. She looked justifiably shocked at his appearance.

“Lucas! What on Solaria happened to you?!”

“What do you think?” he snapped. “It’s all Enjolras’ fault. He’s got everything I don’t – a crown, a sceptre, a Charmix – and he’s a natural blond! I’d give anything to be like him!”

“Anything?” someone asked, but it wasn’t his mother. They both turned to see a handsome, well-dressed man lounging against the doorway, a smirk playing around his mouth.

“Who are you?!” Countess Giselle gasped. “What are you doing in my room?”

The man bowed. “I’m here to help, of course.” He had a smooth, velvety voice that made both Giselle and Lucas feel instantly relaxed. He stood, flicking his wrist in Lucas’ direction, and the custard and caramel instantly vanished, his hair sweeping back into an elegant quiff. “But first let me introduce myself. I am Félix Tholomyès, and I can give you both the power to make all of your dreams come true. Magical power. _Unlimited_ power.”

Lucas narrowed his eyes, relaxed but still suspicious. “Are you buying this, Mother?”

“Quiet, Lucas,” his mother breathed. She was gazing at Tholomyès as if she’d never seen anyone so fascinating. “What do you want in return, Félix Tholomyès?”

Tholomyès smiled victoriously. “Only a ray of sun, my lady. I simply want to bathe in the magical light that illuminates Solaria. In return, I’ll give you the power to make King Nicolas obey your every wish, while your son will become the Crown Prince of Solaria in Enjolras’ place. Lead me to the Spire of the Sun, and all this will be yours – forever.”

A moment’s silence, then – “Very well,” Giselle conceded. “Follow me.” She led the way out of the room, Lucas trailing after her with a somewhat wary glance at Tholomyès, and Félix grinned to himself, following along behind them. They passed through several corridors until they came to a marble staircase, and Giselle led the way up, but suddenly she stopped, hurriedly rearranging her face into a polite smile. Tholomyès followed her glance, and realised someone else was coming down the stairs – a teenage girl with pale blonde hair and deep blue eyes.

“Countess Giselle,” she smiled. “I’m so sorry to interrupt; I got lost on my way back to the salon. You couldn’t tell me where it is, could you?”

“O-oh, of course,” Giselle stammered. “Straight downstairs and to your right, sixteenth door on the left.”

“Some people just don’t belong here,” Lucas muttered, but the girl ignored him.

“Thank you, Countess,” she said cheerily, skipping down. Suddenly, she slowed almost to a halt, staring at Tholomyès with wide, confused eyes. He stared back, equally confused, feeling an odd crackling in the air between them, but suddenly she shook her head and continued down the steps. They headed down a corridor that had pillars every few feet until they reached a golden door at the end. Giselle raised her hand, and Tholomyès stepped behind a pillar before the guards noticed him.

The two guards saluted the noblewoman and her son, and she smiled at them. “Soldiers, please leave us alone for a moment.” The two guards nodded, heading down the corridor, and Tholomyès stepped out as soon as they were out of sight. Giselle raised her right hand, revealing an emerald ring on her middle finger, which she held up to the keyhole. There was a tiny flash of light from the ring, and the door swung open, revealing a tower room painted white. In the centre of the floor was a pedestal about five-and-a-half feet tall, and above it was –

“Solaria’s second sun,” Giselle said. “A fragment of the true sun that gives Solaria its power.”

Tholomyès reached out to caress the floating golden ball of light. “The source of power and life for this world… aaahhh. I feel the heat… the light… the energy!” He was raised off the ground, still stroking the surface of the sun. “Restore me! Bring me back my full power!”

There was a great flash of light, and he landed in front of them, grinning like a madman. “And now, I am Félix Tholomyès once again!” He raised his hands to the skies, and black magic poured out of them, twisting up to the roof of the tower and blasting into the sky, making clouds swirl above Solaria for the first time in perhaps years. Tholomyès stopped the blast after a few moments, and as the clouds continued to swirl, he approached Giselle and Lucas, both gazing at him in awe. “And now, my dear friends, it’s time for me to keep my promise.” This time, he blasted the black sparks at them, lifting them off the ground. They each felt a brief pain on the left side of their necks before they landed, and both put their hands up to feel the insignia scarred into their skin.

Giselle shook herself after a moment. “The party – the guests will be arriving shortly…”

“Then I’ll say my farewells and depart,” Tholomyès bowed. He turned towards the second sun, glancing over his shoulder at them. “But I’m sure we’ll see each other again, very soon…” He vanished, and as the heralds outside the palace blew into their trumpets, announcing the arrival of the first guests, Giselle and Lucas hurriedly headed back down to their rooms to finish getting ready.

 

* * *

 

Cosette headed out to the courtyard to await her friends’ arrival. Enjolras had wanted to accompany her, but had been informed by his father that he would have to wait until the actual ball to reveal himself to the guests – some kind of tradition. Cosette would have felt nervous being alone with all these lavishly-dressed guests, but after you’ve faced off with the Lord Of All Evil and won, nothing much scares you any more. She wore a pale pink dress with a low back and a ruffled skirt that was floor-length at the back and just above her knees at the front, and faded to a darker pink at the bottom. There were pale pink pearls sewn around the waist, and she wore matching pearls at her ears, neck and wrists, with a few strewn through her long hair for good measure, and dark pink heels. And from the looks she was getting from the other guests, they approved. Just then, she noticed a red dot in the sky slowly getting bigger, before turning into an airship, and she ran towards the palace’s airship bay in excitement. Her friends were here!

Ten people disembarked as soon as the ship landed, and Cosette immediately threw herself into the centre of a huge group hug with an excited yell. After a minute, she pulled back to admire how amazing her friends all looked. Jehan, Éponine and Azelma all wore long dresses; Jehan’s was pale pink with puff sleeves, with dark green material from just under the bust to above their ankles, fading to light green with a tiny peak of the pale pink material at the bottom, giving a flower-like appearance. Their hair was in a long braid over their shoulder, tied with a pink ribbon. Azelma wore a simple pale blue Empire-line dress with little white gloves, and her short hair in two curly high bunches. Éponine’s dress was especially beautiful: strapless, with two tiny pale blue moon shapes peaking out from the main dark pink material over her collarbone. The pink faded through orange to gold at the bottom, giving the appearance that she was wrapped in a sunset, and her hair was in a high ponytail, her fringe still covering her right eye.

The boys all wore smart suits in bright colours: Grantaire in turquoise, Courfeyrac in plum, Feuilly in yellow, Bahorel in lilac, Combeferre in mint, Montparnasse in cherry red, and – Cosette’s heart skipped a beat – Marius in baby blue. She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, taking his hand. “I’m so glad you could make it,” she beamed, before turning to the rest of the group. “All of you. You all look stunning!”

“So do you,” Marius grinned. Cosette squeezed his hand.

“What about Chetta?” she asked the group. “She’s still not responded?”

Courfeyrac shook his head. “I think she’s still on Andros.”

“And what about Enjolras?” Grantaire asked. “Where’s he?”

Cosette grinned. “You’ll see him soon enough,” she winked.

 

* * *

 

The ballroom looked amazing. The floor glittered with magic, and the huge windows meant the bright sunshine lit up the whole room so brightly there was no need for the diamond chandeliers to be lit; instead, they through the light around the room in miniature rainbows. There was a huge buffet table all along one wall, with smaller tables for putting gifts on along the opposite wall, and the stairs up to a wrap-around balcony were practically glowing. Two heralds stood at the bottom of the stairs, holding trumpets, and at the top of the stairs was a huge archway, covered by a red velvet curtain.

“They really went all out,” Montparnasse remarked, and Cosette nodded.

“Just wait until you see the guest of honour.”

The heralds blew into their trumpets, and the room fell silent, turning towards the staircase. The curtain covering the arch was rising out of sight, and King Nicolas stepped into view, a warm smile on his face.

“Welcome, my friends,” he began, “and thank you all for coming. Today my heart is filled with joy and happiness, because my Enjolras is back home and ready to be made Crown Prince of Solaria.” He turned back to the archway, and someone else stepped into view, a stunning golden vision that had everyone’s jaws dropping.

“Enjolras,” Grantaire whispered in awe, and Marius nudged him.

“You’re drooling.”

“Don’t care. He’s like… a sun god.”

Enjolras wore the golden suit and red shirt, with black knee-high boots and a black cape with golden lining. His blond hair glowed in the sunlight, and his eyes seemed brighter than ever, outlined with a thin ring of kohl. His lips were painted bright red, and he carried himself the way a future king ought to, shoulders back and chin forward, eyelids lowered haughtily. Just then he caught sight of his friends in the crowd, and his lips twitched up, as if he was trying to stop himself from grinning, and Cosette bit her lip to prevent a giggle slipping out. _He may be royalty, but he’s still the same old Enjy._

King Nicolas wrapped an arm around Enjolras’ shoulders, guiding him down the stairs. “The ceremony to crown you will begin at three o’clock sharp,” he smiled at his son. “Enjolras, I know today is your special day, but I have one more surprise for you.”

Enjolras worked hard to look surprised, as if he hadn’t already worked out that his parents were getting back together and that he was absolutely over the moon. “A surprise? For me?” he asked.

“More or less,” Nicolas smiled. “It’s a surprise for the whole family. All of Solaria, actually.” They reached the bottom, and Nicolas cleared his throat again. “My friends, I have one more announcement to make. Sorry to distract you from the buffet…” the crowd tittered, “…but I would like you all to know that this kingdom will soon have a Queen again.” Enjolras dropped all pretence and grinned widely, looking like a child on Christmas Day. He looked around for his mother, sure she was about to step forward, but she was nowhere in sight. To his shock, King Nicolas was smiling at someone else. “Giselle, my dear?”

Countess Giselle stepped forwards, walking towards Nicolas with a soppy smile. Behind her, Lucas was smirking madly at Enjolras as he adjusted the raspberry red lapels of his suit. As the Countess reached Nicolas and took his arm, Enjolras felt his jaw drop in horror. Giselle gave him a demure smile in return. “Ladies, Gentlemen, and those who are neither, on January 24th, Countess Giselle will become my wife.”

The congregation applauded, except for the Amis, who were all as shocked as Enjolras. Giselle laid a hand on Enjolras’ shoulder, but he gave no indication that he’d noticed, instead staring at his father as if the King had gone mad. “Enjolras,” Giselle said in a placating voice, “I’m so thrilled to become your new mother.”

Enjolras continued ignoring her. “Why didn’t you tell me about this before, dad?” he said quietly, ignoring the wobble that came into his voice. Nicolas looked astounded.

“It was… the big surprise…” he mumbled. “You love surprises!”

Enjolras’ face tightened, and he turned towards the crowd, beginning to greet the guests and ignoring his father too. Giselle smiled reassuringly at Nicolas. “It will be difficult for him at first, but he’ll come around,” she reassured him. “And I’m sure Lucas will help him through it.”

Enjolras reached the Amis, looking tenser than Cosette had ever seen him. “I can’t believe this!” he hissed. “My father has ruined my birthday party! Countess Giselle and her suit-thief son are going to be my new family!”

“Look on the bright side,” Éponine said. Enjolras turned to her expectantly when she didn’t continue.

“What bright side?”

“There’s… uh… six whole months before the wedding?” she suggested. Enjolras scowled, but suddenly his face turned sad.

“I just wanted my parents to get back together,” he said quietly. His face tightened again. “But this – this is the worst thing my father could have done to me!” He turned back towards the crowd, walking away, and Marius nudged Grantaire, clearing his throat meaningfully. Grantaire jumped, handed Marius his glass of champagne, and hurried after Enjolras, fumbling in his jacket pocket for a small box wrapped in lilac and yellow crêpe paper.

“Enjolras!” he called, and Enjolras turned towards him. “I have a present for you.” Grantaire held out the box, and Enjolras took it with an attempt at a smile.

“Thanks, Grantaire,” he said. “I’ll open it later.” He put it down on one of the gift tables, turning and heading towards one of the windows and staring out at the grounds. Grantaire hurriedly snatched the box up again, tucking it back in his pocket, and Jehan drifted over, patting him on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Grantaire,” they said quietly. “Enjolras is just really upset right now. He needs some time to process it.”

“I get it. Thanks, Jehan.”

Meanwhile, King Nicolas was approaching Enjolras, who was still staring moodily out of the window. “Jojo, duty calls,” he said firmly, holding out a hand. “It’s time to crown you.”

Enjolras silently followed his father over to the other end of the room, where there was a marble dais. Three footmen stood on the dais to the left, each holding a red velvet cushion. The first cushion had a round golden sun ornament with a ruby on each ray; the second had a silver crescent moon ornament studded with opals to make the face of the man in the moon; and the third had a golden crown with silver swirling decorations, studded with rubies and opals. King Nicolas stood in the centre of the dais, while Enjolras knelt before him.

The crowd all fell silent, watching closely as Nicolas handed Enjolras first the sun ornament, and then the moon ornament. They continued to watch with bated breath as Enjolras took the oath to govern Solaria as a fair and just ruler – well, nearly all of them. Lucas took the opportunity to slip behind a gift table at the back of the room. He put a hand to the mark scarred into his neck, grinning wickedly. “Enjoy your coronation, my dear brother,” he whispered nastily. “It’s nearly over anyway.” He moved his hands together, forming a ball of blue magic – only now it crackled with black sparks. “Hope you had fun being Daddy’s Spoiled Little Prince, because that’s all about to change – and I mean _change!”_ The ball of light weaved unnoticed between guests until it found its mark: Enjolras’ back, just as he lowered his head to receive the heavy crown.

The second it made contact with him, he screamed and collapsed, writhing madly on the floor as though in horrible pain. Nicolas pushed the crown back onto the cushion and hurried to his son’s side. “Jojo? Enjolras!” Enjolras screamed and writhed harder, and for a moment Lucas was a little worried he’d killed him – but no, now Enjolras’ skin was swelling, turning green and scaly – his fingers were morphing into webbed hands, while his feet were elongating into webbed flippers – his mouth was growing sharp fangs, and his eyes were turning venomous yellow. His suit tore as he bloated, and his thick golden curls were turning wispy, becoming a drab brown. His nostrils were slits, and his ears had vanished into his head while gills appeared on his neck.

Countess Giselle hurried over to Nicolas, kneeling down next to him and placing a hand on his back. “Nicolas,” she whispered urgently, “this monster is not your son. _Listen and obey; this monster is not your son. Do as I say!”_

Nicolas’ eyes flashed pink, so suddenly you’d have needed eyes like a hawk to see it, and the tiny insignia appeared on his neck under his collar. His face became a snarl as he stared at Enjolras, who was now breathing heavily on the floor and gazing up at him with wide, frightened eyes. “Guards,” he shouted, and the guards who had been stationed at the exits hurried into the room, drawing their weapons. “Take this monster away. This is not my son!”

“No! Dad!” Enjolras gasped in horror. The guards were surrounding him, and Lucas slipped over to his mother, grinning.

“Nice one, Mother.”

Giselle smirked back. “You too, darling. And think! We’re only just getting started.”

The guests were hurrying out of the room, but the Amis stood strong, ready to protect their friend. Enjolras turned to them, gasping. “Help me!”

A guard ran at Enjolras, raising a spear, and Cosette raised her hand. “STOP!” she shouted. A blast of fire issued from her fingers and knocked the spear out of the guard’s hands. There was an enormous crack as it hit the floor, and everyone stopped in surprise. A spear shouldn’t have been that loud. But a second crack had them turning towards the windows. Lightening. And with it, dark, muddy rain.

“It’s never rained on Solaria before,” one of the guards muttered in shock, and the Amis took the opportunity to surround Enjolras, forming a protective ring around him.

“Don’t worry, Enj,” Cosette said fiercely. “We’ll protect you.”

Lucas lounged against a window, grinning. “But who’s gonna protect _you?”_

The Wizards all raised their hands, forming weapons, but to their surprise, Lucas grinned wider. “They’re with the monster!” he shouted. “Guards, get them!” His grin became nasty. “Alive or _not.”_

Cosette’s eyes widened. “Alright, guys, transform! Amis Charmix!”

“Amis Charmix!” Jehan, Éponine and Courfeyrac echoed. In a flash they were in their Faery forms, and Azelma stepped forwards.

“Transform!” she shouted. Her new Faery form appeared: a glittery dark pink tube top and skirt with navy high-heeled Mary-Jane shoes and fingerless gloves. She also wore stripy tights, and her wings were yellow and butterfly-like. “Azelma, Faery of Illusions!”

“Transform!” Montparnasse echoed. Unlike the Faeries’ transformations, Montparnasse transformed in a puff of red smoke. His Witch form was a lot more formal than those of Patron-Minette; he wore a black turtleneck jumpsuit with dark red elbow-length gloves and matching knee-high boots. His eyeliner was thicker, and formed a little diamond shape under his left eye, while his lipstick formed a black heart in the centre with cherry red sides. “Montparnasse, Witch of Bad Luck!” He snapped his fingers, and the floor beneath two of the guards gave way, making them fall into a hole. “Whoops. Did I do that?” he smirked.

“Enjolras Charmix!” Enjolras shouted, but to his shock, nothing happened. “My powers are gone!” he whimpered. Countess Giselle smirked wickedly.

“Soldiers, take us to a safe place, and protect the king! That monster is trying to attack him!”

Two of the guards broke away from the group, escorting Nicolas, Giselle and Lucas out of the room, and Bahorel formed a rock shield as the rest of the guards raised their spears. “Get Enjolras out of here!” he yelled.

Azelma nodded in agreement. “The Wizards, ‘Parnasse and I will cover you. Go!”

Carefully surrounding Enjolras, Cosette, Jehan, Éponine and Courfeyrac backed towards the stairs. Azelma raised her hands with a yell, and an enormous spider appeared behind the guards, giving them the opportunity to hurry up the stairs and through the archway. The five ran through the corridors, slamming and magically sealing every door they came to shut behind them.

“I have a feeling we won’t be invited to the next party,” Éponine panted.

“Fine by me,” Cosette joked. “I wasn’t too crazy about the DJ.”

At the front of the group, Enjolras suddenly skidded to a halt. “Wait!” Jehan stopped in mid-air with a yelp, and Enjolras covered his face, giving what sounded suspiciously like a sob. “No, don’t look at me. I’m hideous!”

Jehan shook their head fiercely. “No! I don’t care what you look like, Enjolras!” They wrapped their arms tightly around him, and Courfeyrac frowned.

“Someone cast a spell on you,” he said. “And it was dark magic. Any idea of who could have done this?”

Enjolras opened his mouth to reply, but just then the doors nearest them gave a mighty thump, as if someone was using a battering ram to try and burst through them.

“We can figure that out later,” Cosette said urgently. “Let’s just get out of here!”

Enjolras shook his head. “My father! I have to see my father! I need to let him know I’m not a monster!”

Cosette took off running again, pulling Enjolras by the wrist. “Your father was just scared, Enj.”

The doors burst open, and guards poured into the corridor. Jehan hurriedly cast a spell on a potted plant, which sprouted vines that grasped at the soldiers’ weapons, giving them enough time to make it out of sight. They reached a staircase going up, and Courfeyrac groaned.

“We’ll never make it up the stairs quick enough to get out of here!”

“We’ve got wings,” Cosette reminded him. “Maybe it’s time to use them.” She took the lead in the air, while Jehan and Courfeyrac hoisted Enjolras under the arms, and Éponine brought up the rear. “Where to, Enj?”

“My father’s aviary,” Enjolras said immediately. “It’s at the top of this tower.” They were up the stairs in no time, and Cosette blasted a golden door open. It led to an enormous green tower that to her surprise was empty of birds.

“The aviary’s at the top,” Enjolras explained. “There’s a staircase up to it, but we’d be quicker flying. If we can get to the aviary, we can fly out of here.” They took off, but it seemed the tower was far taller than they’d thought.

“How much further to the top?” Jehan asked. Enjolras looked worried.

“It’s the second tallest tower after the Spire of the Sun. It’s pretty far up.”

The guards poured into the room, smirking up at the Faeries. “This time they’re trapped,” one grinned. Another chuckled.

“And they don’t even know it. I’ll start up the speed-stairway.” He pressed a button next to the door, and a large golden platform appeared. “They’ll never outfly us.”

In the air, Enjolras nervously glanced at the ground. “Uh, could you guys speed it up a little?”

“What, is this not fast enough for you?” Éponine teased.

Enjolras shook his head. “Not anymore! They’re moving faster than we are!”

Éponine looked down and gasped in shock. The guards had crowded onto a golden platform, which was zooming towards them at great speed.

“Keep going!” Cosette urged them. “I’ll slow them down. Firewall!” Huge golden flames issued from her hands, and the guards raised their shields, preparing for impact.

 

* * *

 

The reader may be wondering what happened to the Wizards, Azelma and Montparnasse, since the guards are no longer fighting them but are instead chasing after the Faeries. Well, when Enjolras had escaped, the guards had called for back up, and upon seeing that they were outnumbered, the five Wizards took the opportunity to jump out the window, dash along the roof, and climb down the wall to the garden, with Azelma and Montparnasse following in the air. As they hurried back to the ship, Combeferre asked the question on everyone’s mind: “Do you think they’ll make it out OK?”

“Definitely,” Feuilly replied. “The real question is, how soon will it be, and how much of the palace will be left?” An explosion from one of the towers seemed to underline his point.

 

* * *

 

As the guards raised their shields, Cosette hurried after her friends. Éponine had blasted open the door to the aviary, and they all flew through, out of the way of the spell. See, Cosette’s Firewall spell was more than just the average wall of fire. When touched, it had a tendency to, well…

_BOOM._

…explode.

Cosette turned to the others. “We need to leave now,” she said urgently. “They had shields. They’ll be surprised, but unharmed, meaning they’re probably –”

“– catching up with you right now?” said a smug voice, and the Faeries turned to see the guards pouring into the room, spears raised.

“Get the monster!” the leader shouted. “It’ll tell us what it’s done with Prince Enjolras!” The soldiers nodded, raising their spears over their shoulders and pulling at little spikes below the crests. To the Faeries’ shock, the spears all issued blasts of light towards Enjolras, who backed away in fear – too far. The blasts had hit the glass wall of the aviary, smashing a hole in the side, and Enjolras stepped right out of the hole, falling backwards with a frightened scream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos/comment if you liked it! Also comment if you have any writing advice! I love you!


	3. In Which It Seems Enjolras Has Another Admirer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras has been cursed into a swamp monster by his future stepbrother Lucas, and his father has been enchanted by Countess Cassandra to order the guards to capture Enj and kill his friends. Enjolras and the Faeries have made it to the Aviary, but Enjolras has been knocked out the window without his powers...
> 
> Meanwhile, on the Omega Island, Félix Tholomyès continues to evade the Andros army, and ponders his odd encounter with a blonde teenager on Solaria...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: I passed the last exam for one of my classes today!
> 
> Bad news: I'm angsty/angry because I saw my ex-girlfriend today for the first time since we broke up.
> 
> Good news: I only have one more exam to pass before I get my HNC!
> 
> Bad news: I have nerve damage in my right arm from the elbow down because I shut my arm in my wardrobe by accident. This is like the fourth time in three years I've had to have my arm in a brace.
> 
> Super good news: NEW CHAPTER!

Cosette wasted no time in flying after Enjolras as fast as she could, barely dodging another blast from the soldiers. She heard her friends all casting shield spells, and snatched at Enjolras’ webbed hand, clinging to him and tugging him upwards. Suddenly, she noticed to her horror that she couldn’t fly as fast as usual in the black, muddy rain.

“It’s dark magic!” she realized. “The rain is dark magic!” She clung harder to her friend. “Enjolras, your skin is all slippery! It’s making it hard to hold on –”

She lost her grip on him. Enjolras was plummeting downwards again, screaming in terror, and Cosette flew after him, twisting back to call over her shoulder, “Help!”

Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan burst through the window, creating a second hole, and all four Faeries dived after their friend. Cosette caught up to Enjolras first, grabbing him by both wrists this time, and as she did so she heard her friends shouting behind her, “Convergence! Slow their fall!”

The spell slowed both Cosette and Enjolras until they were merely drifting down the side of the tower, and the other three caught up, guiding them to the ground. Éponine heaved a sigh of relief. “The spell worked, even in this crazy rain.”

“Yeah,” Courfeyrac shuddered. “That was too close for comfort. If we’d cast the spell a second later, Enjolras and Cosette would both have gone _splat._ ”

Enjolras sank to the ground, hiding his face in his hands. “I wish I had gone splat,” he mumbled, trying and failing to keep the sob out of his voice. “I’m a monster.”

Cosette sat next to him. “You’re not a monster, Enj. We’ll get you looking like your real self again in no time.”

Jehan pushed their sopping hair out of their eyes. “Oof, none of the brochures about sunny Solaria mentioned anything about the icky black rain.”

Enjolras squinted up at the sky. “I want to know who did this to me, and why it’s raining on Solaria for the first time ever!”

“You guys OK?” a familiar voice called, getting closer, and Enjolras flinched.

“It’s Grantaire,” he whispered. “I don’t want him to see me like this!” They were only a few feet from the treeline, and Enjolras ducked behind the nearest Acacia.

Grantaire and Marius skidded to a halt in front of the Faeries a few seconds later. “Everyone else is back on the ship,” Marius explained. “Are you OK?”

Cosette nodded. “Considering what we’ve just been through, I’m amazed none of us have any injuries.”

Grantaire frowned. “What have you just been through?”

Jehan shuddered. “Y’know how Lucas ordered the guards to kill us, and to arrest Enjolras? They came pretty damn close; we were cornered in the aviary until the window smashed.”

Marius and Grantaire both looked gobsmacked. “They actually tried to kill you?!” Marius spluttered. “King Nicolas would never stand for that. He’s Enjolras’ father!”

“I think he and the guards were under some kind of spell,” Courfeyrac explained. “They turned on us so randomly; that’s the only explanation.”

“And what happened to Enjolras?” Grantaire asked. “One second he was about to be crowned, but then he collapsed and everyone was crowding him. I didn’t see you guys leave – is he alright?”

“Well…” Éponine said awkwardly. “He’s… uninjured…”

The doors of the palace clanged open, cutting her off, and more guards rushed out. “Hurry and find them, quickly!” the leader shouted, and Marius and Grantaire both tensed, forming their respective fire and water swords.

“It’s you guys they’re looking for,” Marius hissed out of the corner of his mouth. “Find a discreet way back to the ship. We’ll draw them away.” He and Grantaire sprinted into full view of the guards, running in the other direction, and the four Faeries ducked into the trees.

“Enjolras, what's the quickest way out of here?” Éponine asked. Enjolras opened his mouth to reply, but suddenly tensed in horror at the sound of a bark in the distance.

“They’ve released the hounds of Solaria!” he whispered. “They’ll sniff us down in no time. Run!”

The five of them took off, the barking following them. The hounds were far faster than they were, especially Enjolras, whose newly webbed flippers were not built for land. The ground was bad for running too; the lawns here weren’t well-tended like the main garden, and there were roots and fallen branches everywhere. Cosette heard a yelp followed by a thump behind her, and glanced back to see what it was. To her horror, Enjolras had tripped over a tree root, and was on his side, paralyzed with fear. She turned to run and help him, but she was too late. The hounds had caught up and were surrounding him, snapping their jaws savagely. Enjolras trembled, closing his eyes, but suddenly, to everyone’s surprise, the lead hound wagged its tail in excitement, and nuzzled its head against Enjolras’ cheek.

“They know you,” Courfeyrac gasped. “They recognize your scent!”

“Of course!” Enjolras realized. “My father got these dogs to protect me.” He petted one behind the ear with a smile. “Good girls. Go home, now!” The dog licked his cheek, before turning and leading her fellows back to the palace. Enjolras got up, brushing himself off, and took the lead. “Come on; I know the perfect way out of here. There’s a secret passage that I discovered years ago, that nobody else knows about. I knew it would come in handy some day!” He led them through the trees, and turned right at an Acacia with a knotted trunk. “Here we are!”

The Amis all looked around excitedly, but none of them could see anything that might conceal a secret passage. Éponine cleared her throat. “Uh, Enj, do we need a spell to see it or something?”

Enjolras shook his head. “It’s right there,” he explained, pointing at a huge tree behind a tall bush. “The tree’s hollow. I found it about seven years ago; I was out playing Revolution in the woods with magic illusions when one of the bad guys hid behind this bush. I chased him and found this hollow tree. It was connected to an underground tunnel that led out to the fountains behind the palace. I knew it might be hard to find again, so I tied a red ribbon around one of the branches. So whenever I was running late, or just wanted some privacy, I would know which tree it was.”

“Brilliant!” Cosette smiled. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go!”

They squeezed into the hollow of the tree one by one, and dropped through the hole in the ground down to the rocky tunnel. The walls were uneven, but the space was wide enough for them to go two at a time (or four at a time if they squished together), and away from the dim light from the hollow tree, it was near blackout. Enjolras took the lead, his new eyes adjusting to the gloom far quicker than everyone else, and they squished across the muddy downhill floor. Cosette groaned as one of her legs sank knee-deep into the muck. “Oh, gross!”

Jehan pulled her free. “This tunnel is really creepy,” they shuddered.

Éponine barely caught herself from slipping. “It feels like some weird animal den.”

“Walking through was never the fun part,” Enjolras sighed. Behind him, Courfeyrac raised his hand, sending a tiny ball of green light into the air to light the way, seconds before he stood in another deep mud puddle.

“Ugh! How did you avoid from getting all dirty?”

Cosette and Éponine pulled him free together. “He probably used some kind of mud-deflection spell,” Cosette suggested, but Enjolras shook his head, frowning.

“I don’t remember it being this muddy. And I definitely don’t remember that bottleneck up ahead.” Indeed, a few meters in front of them, the tunnel abruptly narrowed to about one foot across. Cosette turned to Courfeyrac.

“How do we get through it, Courf?”

Courf snapped his fingers, and the green ball of light vanished into the bottleneck, returning about thirty seconds later. “According to my scanner, it’s narrow but not very long,” he explained. “We’ll go one at a time – carefully. Follow me.” He squeezed sideways into the gap, followed by Cosette, Éponine, Jehan, and finally Enjolras. Indeed, the tunnel was short, and they reached the other side fairly quickly. Éponine groaned at the state of her dress as she squeezed through the exit.

“At least now our dirty dresses match our dirty shoes.”

“Guys? A little help!”

The four Faeries turned to see Enjolras stuck in the exit. While in his true form he could have probably squeezed through without even brushing the walls, his new appearance was about half a foot wider, and was stuck firm. He’d managed to get his top half through, but his midriff was stuck tight, and his legs weren’t even visible. “I don’t care how; just get me out!”

Jehan and Éponine grabbed his wrists, Cosette and Courfeyrac grabbed their waists, and all four Faeries pulled as hard as they could. After a moment, Enjolras shot out of the bottleneck with a pop like a wine cork, knocking them all over. Fortunately, the ground was dryer here; if it had been the other side they would have doubtless sunk into the quagmire. Unfortunately, the rock seemed less steady, and small clods of earth began raining down on their heads.

“Thanks,” Enjolras panted, getting to his feet. “Now, let’s go before the whole cave system caves in!”

They started down the new tunnel, once again wide enough to walk down two at a time, but unfortunately the ceiling was still crumbling, and Jehan flinched as a clump of rock the size of a basketball crashed down behind the group. They glanced back, and to their horror, it was rolling after them, growing in size like a snowball as it picked up mud and more rock. “Run!”

All five of them sprinted down the tunnel, the rock-and-mud ball chasing after them, but after about two minutes, Enjolras skidded to a halt. “Oh no! This wasn’t here before!” The tunnel had suddenly split off in two directions. “Someone – or some _thing_ – has dug another tunnel!”

“Enj?” Courfeyrac said nervously. “We need to make a decision now.” They’d pulled ahead of the boulder, but it was gaining on them quickly. “We’re coming from the south – do we go north east or north west?”

“Uh, let’s see,” Enjolras muttered. “North is nice, south is sunny, east is least but west is best. We go north west!” They all crowded down the left tunnel, shuddering as the boulder turned after them but got stuck at the entrance. No turning back now, and it was pitch black. Courfeyrac summoned his green light again, and they headed on. About fifty feet in, Cosette looked up at the ceiling nervously, as it was now speckled with round cracks wider than a human’s body.

“Enj? What about these giant holes? Were they here before?”

Enjolras shook his head, shivering. “I don’t remember any of this. Not these giant holes –” he glanced up at a hole, and suddenly screamed. “And definitely not these giant spiders!”

“Giant spiders?” Éponine trembled. She followed his gaze up to the ceiling and let out a similar scream, for spiders with bodies as wide as a man and covered in thick brown fur were descending from the ceiling on thick, lumpy thread.

“RUN!” Cosette shrieked, but too late – the lead spider spat silk at her, knocking her to the floor, and there must have been some kind of knock-out compound in it because she fell unconscious almost immediately. Similar fates met Jehan, Éponine and Enjolras, and the spiders began dragging them up to the ceiling, where they stuck to the rock like giant flies.

Courfeyrac got lucky. He’d backed away slowly into a crevice in the wall, and the spiders hadn’t noticed him. Peering out, he shook with terror as the largest spider of all – eight feet in diameter with giant fangs and bright red fur – crawled out of a hole towards the unconscious teenagers. If it had been human, it would have been licking his lips. There weren’t many things Courfeyrac was illogically afraid of, but there was something primitively creepy about spiders. And to be fair, spiders bigger than he was probably inspired a pretty logical fear – especially the really big one, which was reaching for Enjolras with its pincers. He had to act fast or it would be too late. As the spider’s mandibles clicked, Courfeyrac cast an illusion spell, making a copy of each captive appear, standing tall and facing the spiders head-on. All the spiders clicked their pincers in confusion, and all of them – even the big red one – crawled towards the apparent escapees, spitting web at them and scuttling in agitation when it went right through the illusions. Courfeyrac took the opportunity to flutter up to the ceiling and use severing spells on the web binding his friends. As they began to fall to the ground, he used a levitation spell, and hurriedly guided them down the tunnel, away from the spiders. When they were a good distance away, a quick cleaning spell made the remaining web disintegrate, and the Amis instantly awoke.

“What happened?” Enjolras gasped.

“No time to explain,” Courfeyrac whispered. “We need to get out of here before those spiders realize they’re hunting illusions.”

They made it through about 100 feet of tunnel before being forced to come to an abrupt stop. The tunnel connected to a cave that stretched both upwards and downwards, about ten feet up and who knows how many feet down, for the cave was filled with water to just below the tunnel’s mouth. There was no other exit; they were going to have to swim for it.

“Let’s converge and make a breathing bubble,” Cosette suggested. “We don’t know how long we’ll be underwater for. She swan-dived in, followed by Courfeyrac, Éponine, Jehan, and finally Enjolras, who realized he wouldn’t need the breathing bubble after all, as he now had gills.

Cosette, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine formed a circle, raising their hands to begin the spell, when suddenly Jehan felt a tiny prick of pain in their left hand. They glanced at it, and to their shock a bright purple leech had latched onto their exposed skin. They tried to shake it away, but the leech held firm. Jehan felt Cosette squirming next to them, and turned to see the leeches wiggling towards her, biting at her legs and arms. Courfeyrac and Éponine were struggling to remove more leeches, and Jehan looked down at their own legs upon feeling more pinpricks. At least ten leeches were stuck to their tanned skin, all sucking madly for blood. Another leech stuck to their forehead, and Jehan suddenly couldn’t see anymore… couldn’t hear… couldn’t think…

Enjolras turned to see all four of his friends sinking to the bottom of the cave, covered in leeches and unconscious. He was unaffected, as the leeches couldn’t get ahold of his newly slippery skin, and hurriedly scanned the cave for a solution. Pulling the leeches off wouldn’t work, as they would merely swim back to their targets, and he might injure his friends further. The only real solution was to find the way out to the fountain. Swimming in a circle and feeling the cave walls, he noticed how the rock changed its texture in one spot near the bottom – from smooth silt to something rougher. Examining the single rough patch, he found a tiny crack less than an inch across. Unremarkable, except - daylight was pouring through it. He pulled back a little way, before pushing himself through the water towards the wall, flippers first, and slammed against the surface. The brick – for that was what it was – gave way instantly, sending the water pouring into another tunnel. The force of the water was enough to pull the leeches away, and Enjolras noticed that the cave they were in now was lit from above! He grabbed his friends by the collars, two to each hand, and kicked for the surface – splashing up into the fountain behind the castle! His friends came to as soon as they broke the surface, and all five swam for the side.

Courfeyrac sent their coordinates to the ship, and while they were waiting, Cosette conjured a long red hooded robe, which she draped over Enjolras.

“If you’re not ready for Grantaire to see you like this, the robe will cover you up,” she explained. Enjolras nodded, thanking her, and pulled the hood up, hiding him from view completely.

 

* * *

 

 

While the Amis were waiting for their rescue, Félix Tholomyès sat under a rocky outcrop on the Omega Island, brooding. _The sun of Solaria is mine… but something was strange there. That girl I passed on the stairs… I felt an odd resonance between us. But who is she?_

He got to his feet and hollered, “Patron-Minette! Come here!”

The three Witches appeared in front of him instantly. “Alright, Félix, there’s no need to yell,” Gueulemer said snippily.

“We’re right here,” Babet added. “You got something to say?”

“You don’t look very tanned,” Claquesous sneered. “Sunbath not work?”

Tholomyès surveyed them coldly, raising his hands. Instantly, scarlet flames swirled around him, and his eyes glowed red. All three Witches’ jaws dropped.

 _I guess it did work,_ Babet mused, smiling to himself.

 _This guy’s insane,_ Gueulemer thought admiringly.

A tiny blush spread across Claquesous’ cheeks. _I’m **impressed.**_

Tholomyès raised one hand, and amidst the flames appeared an angelic face with deep blue eyes, pale blonde hair, and a sweet smile. “I need to find this girl,” he said, staring intently at the face. “Do you know who she is?”

“Cosette,” Babet sneered. “Cosette Valjean.”

“The name doesn’t ring a bell,” Tholomyés frowned. “Tell me more.”

“She’s the leader of the Amis,” Claquesous explained. “They’re a group of do-gooder Faeries and Wizards from Musain and Corinthe.”

“She’s seriously powerful, and not to be underestimated,” Gueulemer added. “But nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure,” he tacked on.

“Seriously powerful?”

“She’s the Faery of Fire, and the Guardian of the Dragon Flame,” Babet explained. “Her birth name is Princess Euphrasie, and she was the only survivor of Domino after our Ancestors destroyed it.”

 _The Dragon Flame? Domino? Princess Euphrasie?_ Tholomyès’ eyes widened. _It cannot be… and yet it must be. I suppose it was sweet Fantine who saved her… and I suppose I’m glad she did, otherwise I would not have the opportunity to kill her myself…_ “These other Faeries and Wizards must be powerful, but I’m sure you three can defeat them,” he said aloud. All three Witches grinned, and he hurriedly added, “But leave Cosette. She is _mine._ ”

 

* * *

 

 

“Marius, I need to contact the school and let them know we’ll be arriving shortly,” Cosette said. The ship was whizzing through space towards Magix, with Bahorel and Marius piloting, and Marius nodded.

“Sure, Sette. The radio is over there.”

Grantaire, meanwhile, was approaching Enjolras, who was keeping to himself at the back of the ship. “You OK?”

Enjolras looked away so Grantaire wouldn’t be able to see inside the hood. “Fine. Just… cold and tired. I kinda wanna be alone right now, if that’s OK.”

Grantaire nodded understandingly. “Of course.” He got up, heading back to his seat, and Enjolras sighed unhappily.

_What if I’m stuck looking like this forever?_

They reached Musain shortly after that, and the Faeries immediately headed to the library, while Azelma headed to her room and the Wizards dropped Montparnasse off at Votirlu. Enjolras took the opportunity to remove the robe and get some air about his scales.

“Don’t worry, Enj,” Cosette assured him as they headed towards the Curse isle. “We’ll find a cure to get you looking like your old self in no time. I’ll go to the Magic Archive and ask Élisa for help if we can’t find anything here.”

“I hope so,” Enjolras groaned. “Grantaire’s going to see what I look like, sooner or later.”

The Amis hadn’t realised that someone else was in the library, and as they passed the Magical Spying Methods isle, this person – or rather, ogre – saw them. Larbin had been in the library mopping up some invisible ink when the Faeries entered, and although Enjolras’ new look was far from palatable to humans, it was more than palatable to ogres. Larbin was instantly smitten with this strange swamp creature – so smitten, in fact, that he failed to notice he was mopping a clean floor, and that the invisible ink stain was more than two feet away from him.

Cosette gathered several books while the others sat at a table. “The Curse Compendium, volumes 1 through 5. These should at least give us a nudge in the right direction.”

“Hey, Enj,” Jehan smiled. “How about we cast a spell on Grantaire so that he only sees your true inner beauty?”

“That would be great,” Enjolras groaned, “if I was sure my inner self was any prettier than my outer self.”

Cosette carried the books back to the table, before noticing that someone else had arrived in their section. “Hey, Larbin,” she smiled at the school ogre, who to her surprise, completely ignored her, instead holding out what looked like a handful of long grass out to Enjolras.

“For you, handsome,” he sighed adoringly, before looking a little embarrassed. “Sorry. I got hungry on the way over and ate the flowers.”

Enjolras awkwardly accepted the flower stalks. “Uh, thank you?” He turned to Jehan, looking a little freaked. “Jehan, put that spell on Grantaire, pronto.”

A book dropped onto the table, making everyone present jump, and to their surprise, Élisa, the Piskie of the Magic Archive, fluttered down after it. “Sorry, mes Amis,” she apologized. “I was having the Piskies help me reorganise the bookshelves by author, but some of them aren’t quite used to carrying anything heavier than a cup of coffee.” She went to pick up the book, but Cosette held out a hand to stop her.

“Hang on, Élisa,” she said thoughtfully. “This is a book on Ancient Magic. It might be able to help us.”

“Help you…?” Élisa frowned, but then noticed Enjolras. “Aah, I see.” She looked thoughtful, turning towards him. “Curse?”

“Probably,” Enjolras replied.

“Unknown caster?”

“I have an idea of who it was, but no evidence.”

“And you’re unable to use your magic?”

“Yes.”

“Any unusual urges?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have the desire to eat insects or roll around in a swamp?”

“Not in the slightest.”

Élisa nodded. “Transmutation curse, most definitely.” She felt Enjolras’ forehead, then his neck, gills, and finally the webbing between his fingers. “Dark magic. Very dark… very dark indeed. No counter-curse. Hmm…” she nodded at Cosette. “That book is probably your best bet after all.”

“Can you help us find the right page?”

“Of course!” Élisa clapped her tiny hands, and the book flipped open, turning its pages until she clapped her hands again. “Stop! That one will help.”

Jehan leaned over and read aloud, “‘The Mirror of Truth’. The Mirror of Truth is kept in a cave on the far side of the Barrier –”

“What’s the ‘Barrier’?” Éponine asked.

“The Barrier is the mountain range around Magix,” Élisa explained. “The Mirror will have the power to break the spell, but you will have to figure out how to use it.”

“And you’re sure it will work?” Enjolras asked desperately.

“Yes,” Élisa reassured him. “I swear on the Dragon.”

“It’s not gonna be easy,” Jehan shuddered, still reading the book. “According to this, the cave is guarded by ‘ice storms and winged sentries’, who serve these dudes called the ‘Ice Giants’. That’s not gonna be fun.”

“When is anything ever easy?” Enjolras groaned. “Alright, what does this mirror look like?”

“You’ll know it when you see it,” Élisa said cryptically. Larbin gave Enjolras another lovesick smile.

“I could go with you and help,” he suggested.

Enjolras shook his head, suppressing a shudder. “No, Larbin, we need you here to… y’know… keep an eye on the place.”

 

* * *

 

While Courfeyrac got in contact with the Wizards, Enjolras headed to his dorm to change out of his ragged suit and into something more comfortable. He was sure he had some grow-to-fit pyjamas lying around somewhere, and as he looked them out, he sighed quietly.

“Oh, Grantaire,” he murmured. “I wish you were here to comfort me. You’d hold me and hug me, and tell me you love me no matter how I look. I need my hero.”

Enjolras hadn’t realised it, but he had an eavesdropper. Larbin had followed him sneakily back to the dorm, and was listening at the door. He’d missed who this train of thought was addressed to, and in his smitten state, had convinced himself that it had been about him.

“My love, I am here!” he practically sang as he burst through the door. Enjolras was struggling to get his head through the neck of a tiny pyjama shirt, but he managed, and it adjusted to his size almost immediately.

“You certainly are,” he said, sounding rather confused as he got his arms through the sleeves.

Larbin nodded. “I’m your hero! I’m here to hold you, and hug you, and ask you out, and –”

A smirk was spreading across Enjolras’ face. _Might as well have some fun with this._ “Really? And how do you intend to ask me out? I am royalty, after all.” Larbin nodded, seemingly taking mental notes, and Enjolras grinned. “To approach a Prince, you must have style and elegance, and absolutely perfect posture.”

The ogre straightened up and adjusted his dungaree straps, nodding, and Enjolras struggled not to laugh out loud as the ogre offered him an arm. Luckily, a distraction arrived in the form of Jehan, who leaned amusedly against the doorframe. “Enj, you ready? Or am I interrupting something?”

“Not at all,” Enjolras laughed, and Larbin blinked in confusion. Was he not in the middle of wooing Enjolras? “Let’s go.”

Apparently not. Enjolras pulled on his red robe and left with Jehan, while Larbin sighed sadly and headed back to the library. Apparently it was not meant to be between them.

 

* * *

 

“Was Larbin trying to ask you out?” Jehan laughed as they hurried through the corridors.

Enjolras nodded with a sigh. “Yep. Apparently green monster Enjolras is just his type. But I’d be willing to bet it’s not Grantaire’s.”

“Don’t worry,” Jehan assured him. “I cast the spell. He’ll only see your inner beauty, as though it’s reflected in your appearance.”

They headed out to the waiting Owl airship, where the other Faeries stood with the Wizards. Apparently only Marius, Combeferre and Grantaire himself were going on this expedition, dressed in their Corinthe uniforms, and Enjolras glanced nervously at Jehan. “Did you cast the spell yet?” Jehan nodded, and Enjolras gnawed his lower lip with three sharp little fangs. “Alrighty, here goes nothing.” He pulled the hood down.

To his relief, Grantaire’s smile didn’t change at all. “You ready to go, handsome?”

Enjolras nodded, smiling brightly. “Sweet, the spell is working!” he said under his breath. Grantaire frowned.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Enjolras laughed hurriedly. “Come on, let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

It wasn’t long before they were flying over mountains, further out than any of them had ever been before. After nearly ten minutes of seeing nothing but rock and snow out the windscreen, Enjolras called forwards from the back of the ship, “Are we nearly there yet?”

“My calculations say we’re approaching the area the cave is located in,” Courfeyrac replied, frowning at a computer screen. “Unfortunately, that means the weather’s about to get real nasty.”

He was right. Five minutes later, they flew into a blizzard so thick they could barely see where they were going, meaning they definitely didn’t see whatever it was that caused the ship to suddenly thud and buck in mid-air.

“We’re encountering some turbulence,” Marius shouted. “Everyone strap in.”

“It must be the protective ice storms the book mentioned,” Cosette added. “We’re getting close.”

Courfeyrac glanced over at Combeferre. “What’s happening now?”

“According to the Owl’s thermometer,” Combeferre replied, “the temperature is nowhere near low enough to become deadly… but there’s ice starting to build up on the hull of the ship. While we won’t freeze to death, if it reaches the engine…” he tailed off.

“I got this,” Jehan said, standing. “I’ve been practicing a new spell. I’ll melt this ice with my Solar Sprouts.”

Combeferre shook his head. “That won’t work. The ice is way too thick. Your solar sprouts will never be able to take root.”

“How about Cosette melts it with her Dragon Fire?” Éponine suggested, and Cosette grinned.

“You read my mind. Cosette Charm–”

Marius shook his head. “Cosette, wait! We don’t know what sort of power these Ice Giants are packing. Going outside now could be really dangerous.”

“Well, we need to do something now,” Grantaire pointed out. “If that ice gets any heavier, it won’t even have to reach the engine to make us crash. It just has to weigh us down enough until we hit a mountain or something.”

“Then we need to find another way to melt the ice.”

Cosette looked thoughtful. “I have an idea, but you’re going to have to trust me.”

“I trust you,” Marius replied instantly. A red bulb set into the navigation panel began flashing, an incessant beeping accompanying it, and Combeferre hurriedly adjusted the Owl’s course away from a mountain.

“We do a speed dive,” Cosette explained quickly. “The air friction will create heat and melt the ice off the ship.”

Marius nodded. “Sounds good. Hang on, everyone; we’re going to have to get up high before we can dive properly.”

“Don’t pull up until I say so,” Cosette reminded him, buckling herself into her seat. At the back of the ship, Enjolras shuddered.

“Something tells me I’m not going to enjoy this,” he mumbled.

At an altitude of 60,000 feet, Marius pulled the Owl into ‘dive’, and they shot downwards so quickly everyone was thrown back into their seats.

“Getting dizzy,” Enjolras muttered. “Feeling nauseous… oh, Dragon…”

“Pull up!” Grantaire yelled. He had turned an interesting shade of pale green. “Marius, pull up!”

“Not until Cosette says!” Marius replied. Everyone else turned to Cosette.

“Now?”

Cosette shook her head, and Enjolras closed his eyes. “Oh, crap, crap, crap, crap, crap –”

“Pull up now?” Grantaire asked Cosette, who shook her head again.

“Not yet.”

The beeping began again, and Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan all turned to Cosette. “Pull up now?”

Cosette was squinting intently through the windscreen, and suddenly nodded. “Pull up, Marius! Pull up now!”

Marius pulled up, and with a great ripping noise, the sheet of ice peeled off the windscreen. Apparently the storm had cleared, because no more snow was falling.

“Is it over?” Enjolras groaned.

Marius nodded. “Yeah, Enjolras, it’s over. Cosette, that was seriously awesome.”

“Seriously,” Combeferre added. “You should join our young pilots club.”

Jehan gave an excited shout, pointing through the windscreen at the tallest mountain in sight. “I think I see the cave!”

Suddenly, a large shadow passed over the Owl, and everyone’s eyes widened. “What was that?” Éponine asked nervously.

“I hope they’re not what I think they are…” Jehan muttered. Whatever it was wheeled around above them, casting another huge shadow over the ship, only this time it dived towards them.

“It’s trying to attack the ship!” Grantaire yelled, and Jehan groaned as the monstrous four-legged bird came into view.

“Oh no, it _is_ what I thought it was! It’s one of the winged sentries that protects the cave – a Harpy Eagle!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The aforementioned damaged nerve in my right arm is making typing very painful. Luckily I have the next chapter typed up already.
> 
> Please kudos/comment if you enjoyed! And feel free to give writing and/or nerve-damage-care advice if you have any.


	4. In Which The Ice-Giants Pass Their Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Amis are desperate to reach the cave that hides the Mirror of Truth, but unfortunately a giant cranky bird stands - or flies - in their way...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER!!!

The Harpy Eagle seemed to be in a very bad mood. It shot after them, and all four of its massive clawed feet clamped onto the sides of the ship, shaking the occupants like confetti in a snow-globe. Marius made an attempt to pull up, but the bird’s strength overpowered the engine, and one of its claws scored a thin crack down the outside of the windscreen.

“The engine’s no longer responding,” Combeferre reported. His voice was calm, but his knuckles were clenched and white. “And the gravitational fields that would slow our descent if it drops us are kaput.”

“The automated drills won’t work,” Marius added. “Ferre, we need to find a way to manually override it.”

“Try the hyperdrive,” Grantaire suggested. He was hurriedly pushing buttons on the interface, trying to find a way to turn off the alarm, but threw a reassuring smile over his shoulder at the passengers.

Marius nodded. “Ferre, open the hyper-valves. Let’s see if we can get more power.”

Combeferre pushed several buttons, but all that happened was that the alarm became louder and more frequent. “It’s not working! The bird must have blocked the valves from opening!” As if to underline his point, the Harpy Eagle stomped on the windscreen again, causing several long fissures to stem from the first crack.

“No,” Marius muttered. “There’s no way this overgrown pigeon is stronger than our ship!”

“I think it’s time we Faeries suited up,” Cosette suggested. Jehan, Éponine and Courfeyrac all nodded, and they grouped together near the hatch at the back of the ship. Enjolras sighed forlornly.

“I hate that I can’t help you guys!”

“Don’t worry, Enj,” Grantaire called over his shoulder. “We’ll get your powers back in no time.”

“Amis Charmix!” Cosette shouted, and the other Faeries echoed her. With a flash of light, they were all transformed, and Grantaire opened the hatch so they could fly out. They flew upwards to get a better shot at the Harpy Eagle, and Cosette cracked her knuckles. “Let go, you oversized Christmas turkey! Sphere of Fire!”

A ball of fire hit the bird in the back, and to their relief it let go of the ship – but then it cawed loudly, and two more Harpy Eagles flew up to join it. “Bollocks,” Cosette muttered. “Plan B, anyone?”

“I’ll stun them,” Éponine suggested, raising her hands. “Sound Wave!” The high-pitched noise sent the birds reeling – straight in the direction the ship had taken to get out of the way.

“Shit!” Courfeyrac groaned. “They’re running from us, and going after the ship instead!”

 

* * *

 

 

Marius steered the ship lower, so they were no longer above the mountain range but in it – making it harder for anything to follow them. With no sight of the birds for five minutes, Combeferre breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the Dragon; I think they’ve given up.”

“Think again, Ferre!” Grantaire yelled. A second later, a giant pair of claws clamped onto the front of the ship, and they found themselves staring past a cruel bronze beak into fathomless black eyes. The bird cawed loudly, and abruptly swung the ship against the side of the nearest mountain, pressing it against the rock and dragging it along. Huge scrapes were forming on the windscreen, which was beginning to creak in a very alarming way…

 

* * *

 

“Back off, birds!” Éponine yelled. She blasted more sound waves at the two Harpy Eagles that weren’t gripping the ship, and both birds cawed in pain, one flying out of the way, but the other seemingly unable to decide what direction to go in. Jehan made a worried noise.

“Don’t hurt them!” they begged. “They’re only defending their territory!”

“Fair enough!” Éponine grunted. “I’ll try and disorient them away from the ship rather than, like, burst an eardrum or something.”

“I can trap the other one in a mental puzzle,” Courfeyrac suggested. “Birds don’t know math, so it won’t be able to get out until I detransform.” He blasted green light at the escaped Harpy Eagle, which was instantly trapped in a glowing green cage made of numbers and symbols. “Gotcha!”

“Great,” Cosette smiled, before frowning. “Now to rescue our friends.”

All four Faeries took off after the ship, leaving the disoriented and trapped birds behind them. Unfortunately, the bird that had a grip on the ship was far faster then they were, and they were unable to catch up as it rounded the corners and twists of the mountain range.

“We need to knock the bird off the ship,” Courfeyrac panted. “I’ll hit it as soon as we’re in the next straight part.” Luckily, the path straightened out as soon as they rounded the next corner, and Courfeyrac blasted more green light at the Harpy Eagle, which screeched and let go of the ship.

“Wicked shot, Courf!” Cosette cheered.

 

* * *

 

There was similar excitement inside the Owl now that the bird had let go. Marius and Combeferre were whooping and high-fiving, and Grantaire spun his chair in a circle before smiling at Enjolras.

“Told you we’d be fine.”

Enjolras got to his feet, looking relieved, but suddenly sat down on the floor as the ship juddered again. “What was that?” he asked fearfully.

Combeferre pushed his glasses up his nose and squinted at the interface, which was flashing red. He pushed a button, then another, and another, looking increasingly worried. “The controls still aren’t responding! They’re jammed!”

Marius checked the scanner, and made a nervous noise. “We’re being attacked again,” he reported, “and this time by something _really_ big!” The next thing they knew, the ship had been turned upside down, and the three Wizards were stuck dangling from their seats, their seatbelts the only things keeping them from smashing through the windscreen. Enjolras wasn’t so lucky, and clung with all his might to the seat he’d just abandoned.

 

* * *

 

“You mean, the other ones were _babies?!”_ Éponine shrieked, and Jehan nodded with a groan.

“Apparently.”

“And now Mama Harpy Eagle has come back to roost,” Cosette shuddered. They were chasing after the ship as fast as they could, and all four of them whimpered a little as the supremely huge Harpy Eagle flipped the ship upside down.

“We need to attack now, before she turns our friends into mincemeat!” Courfeyrac said. Jehan looked worried.

“But she’s just trying to protect her babies!”

“What choice do we have?!” Cosette yelled to be heard over the mother Harpy Eagle’s caws.

 

* * *

 

“If we go any faster, the Owl’s gonna blow!” Combeferre shouted. Indeed, the interfaces had all turned bright red, and the alarm was sounding louder and more often than ever before.

“And the brakes, reverse engines, and every other piece of machinery that could have helped us are all offline?” Marius groaned. “Great. Just great.”

“I could get us out of here in a millisecond if I could just transform,” Enjolras whimpered. “But I can’t even do that!”

Grantaire took a deep breath, seemingly the only passenger currently not panicking. “Guys, it’s gonna be OK,” he said firmly. “We’ll make it – we always do.”

 

* * *

 

The Faeries had caught up with Mama Harpy Eagle; she’d slowed down and was now hovering above a mountain, and had thankfully turned the ship back the right way up. Cosette had remembered a spell that might work, and with their quarry slowed to a halt, they might be able to use it. “I’m ready when you are, Sette,” Éponine called. She peeled away from the group and zoomed down under the ship. Jehan tugged at Cosette’s arm.

“Are you sure about this, Cosette?” they asked with wide eyes. “We’ve only ever done this spell in class – we’ve never done it with a living, moving target!”

“We don’t have much of a choice,” Courfeyrac pointed out, and Cosette nodded.

“We need to act now. Let’s do this!” The three of them zoomed up above the Harpy Eagle, forming a wide circle, and 100 feet above her, Cosette called as loud as she could, “Éponine! NOW!”

Hearing the shout, Éponine clung to the opening onto the ship’s engine and shouted, “Ultrasound Power!” Loops of magenta light surrounded her, fanned into the air by the still-turning engine and amplified by its power, floating up to surround the bird, which screamed loudly and took off, the other three Faeries following as fast as they could.

 

* * *

 

Inside the Owl, to everyone’s surprise, the interfaces had turned green again. Hardly anything but the hatch was responding, but it did mean they were safe. “What’s going on?” Grantaire asked.

“It’s some kind of Ultrasonic Energy surge,” Combeferre replied, checking the scanner.

“Then it can only be one person,” Enjolras grinned. “It’s got to be Éponine!”

“Let’s hope she’s got a plan,” Marius mumbled.

 

* * *

 

 

The plan had indeed worked – a few seconds later, the Harpy Eagle let go of the ship, unable to cope with the frequency of Éponine’s spell, and in the air, Cosette, Jehan and Courfeyrac all prepared to cast their part of the spell – when suddenly something above them screeched, and they looked up to see two circling shadows.

“The babies are back to help their mother!” Jehan realized.

“Ignore them,” Cosette said firmly. “We need to cast this spell now!” All three Faeries raised their hands, which glowed with magic.

 

* * *

 

“What are they doing out there?” Grantaire muttered.

“Maybe we should try an evasive maneuver,” Combeferre suggested, but Marius shook his head.

“Not yet. Give them a minute. They know what they’re doing.”

 

* * *

 

“NOW!” Cosette shouted, and the three of them clenched their fists, sending yellow light zooming towards the Mama Harpy Eagle and the two babies flanking her.

“RELOCATION SPELL!” they chorused, and with a bright white flash, the Harpy Eagles all vanished.

“It worked!” Cosette cheered. “We did it!”

“Where did they go?” Jehan asked anxiously, and Courfeyrac checked his scanner.

“We didn’t send them far,” he frowned. “To be fair, we _are_ kind of new at this spell.”

Éponine flew into view from beneath the ship. “Then I say we get to the cave before they come back.”

 

* * *

 

“Keep the ship low,” Marius instructed as they entered a canyon that headed back towards the cave. There were large clumps of rock sticking out of the walls here, and Grantaire gave a low whistle as they barely missed a large one.

“There’s no way the Harpy Eagles could follow us down here,” he grinned.

“Yeah,” Combeferre frowned, “but it’s pretty dangerous here. This gorge hasn’t even been mapped yet.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be one of Corinthe’s best cartographers?” Courfeyrac teased. “I thought this would be right up your alley.”

“Totally,” Combeferre replied, “but we’re on a time limit right now. And I guess that means we’re gonna have to speed-navigate.”

“Speed-navigate?”

“Uh-huh.” _And by speed-navigate, I mean follow the path and hope we don’t bump into anything._ “Marius, accelerate.”

The Owl zoomed between rocky outcrops, twisting and turning, and everyone who wasn’t seated braced themselves. Unfortunately, Combeferre had forgotten to take the width of the back of the ship into account, and they bumped against the cliffside like a bus going over a pothole. Doubly unfortunately, when your vehicle is in the air and you’re not sitting down, bumping into something can knock you right off your feet. And that is triple unfortunate when the door is unlocked.

Enjolras fell backwards with a yelp, skidded along the floor, and hit the door, which burst open, sending him plummeting downwards for the third time that day. Grantaire reached out to grab him, but missed, and would doubtless have jumped after him if Marius hadn't grabbed him by the cape.

“ENJOLRAS!!! NOOOOOOOO!!!”

“He’ll be OK, Grantaire,” Marius said firmly. “Faeries are tougher than they look, and it wasn’t a far drop. We’ll circle back and find him.”

“Look at this!” Combeferre gasped, pointing to a small screen on the interface. It showed an image of Enjolras clinging to another outcrop. “I installed a camera under the ship so I could see where I was parking it better. It’s only just come back on!”

“He’s OK!” Grantaire sighed in relief. “Alright, now we just have to get in close enough for me to pull him back on board.”

“It’ll be a tight fit,” Marius warned, but began maneuvering the ship lower.

“Hurry up,” Jehan added. “He doesn’t have much grip – he won’t be able to hold on for long.”

 

* * *

 

 _Not good, not good, not good,_ Enjolras thought as he clung to the rock. He definitely had more muscle in this form, but his grip was giving way worryingly quickly. He slid a few more inches towards the edge of the rock and whimpered a little. _Definitely not good!_

“HANG ON, ENJ!” Grantaire shouted, and Enjolras turned to see the back end of the Owl backing towards him. The door was open, and Grantaire was leaning out. “We’ll get in as close as we can.” He glanced over his shoulder, apparently listening to someone, and sighed. “OK, this is as close as we’re getting. Take my hand!”

Enjolras shook his head. “I’ll pull you out!” he groaned. “I’m too heavy!”

“You’re not!” Grantaire insisted. “You’re going to have to trust me. Do you trust me?”

Enjolras had his eyes squeezed shut, but he nodded.

“Then reach out, let go, and I’ll catch you.”

“No, thank you!”

“Enj! Now!”

Enjolras didn’t open his eyes, but reached out one trembling flipper, and as the rock gave way, Grantaire snatched at him, yanking him firmly back onto the ship. “Wasn't that bad, was it?” he panted. Enjolras shook his head, smiling, and Combeferre pushed the button that shut _and_ locked the door. As soon as it closed, Enjolras found himself being tackled by the other Faeries into a group hug, and Grantaire took the opportunity to sink onto the floor and breathe heavily.

“Nice one, Grantaire,” Marius grinned. “Now, I reckon it’s time we find the cave before anything else bad happens.”

 

* * *

 

Luckily, they made it back to the cave they’d seen earlier without further incident, and the opening was wide enough to park the ship in. They disembarked into a dark, icy tunnel that only led in one direction, and Enjolras pulled his red robe around his body again.

“What is it we’re looking for again?” Grantaire asked as the group followed the path.

“Something called the ‘Mirror of Truth’,” Jehan replied. “Unfortunately, we don’t know what it looks like – Élisa said we’d ‘know it when we see it’. Cryptic, right?”

“I hope we get there soon,” Enjolras groaned. “I just want my old body back.”

“I hope the Ice Giants are friendlier than their winged sentries,” Cosette shuddered, and Courfeyrac nodded, checking his scanner.

“My scanner says the tunnel widens out in after we turn the corner. That’s gotta be good news, right?”

The tunnel did indeed go round a bend and then widen out, and everyone stopped dead in their tracks to gaze over the scenery in awe. They were standing on the banks of a huge frozen lake, in the center of which were five huge twisted ice pillars up to the ceiling. The pillars had gnarled, ancient faces twisted into them, about half-way up, and the whole room was lit with some kind of ancient, magical light.

“Whoa,” Cosette breathed. “I think we’ve arrived.”

“It’s beautiful,” Enjolras added. “But where do we even start to look?”

**“Search no further.”**

All eight teens froze and gazed up at the pillars, for that was where the voice had seemingly come from – a deep, booming voice that rang through the cave and made their bones shake.

**“You were looking for us? State your business.”**

Cosette took the lead, glancing nervously up at the pillars. “Sorry to bother you,” she said politely, “but are you the Ice Giants?”

 **“We are the ones who wait in eternity,”** the voice replied. **“Speak.”**

“Um,” Cosette trembled, but held her ground. “We need your help. Please?”

 **“You overcame great danger to find us,”** the voice mused. **“The icy winds of the Barrier mountains, and the talons of the Harpy Eagles. Your motivation must be strong.”**

Enjolras stepped forwards and pulled down the hood of his robe, shaking back his sleeves to reveal his flippers, and the voice made an understanding noise. **“Aah, dark magic.”**

“Please,” Enjolras begged. “Can you help me?”

 **“You seek the Mirror of Truth,”** the voice replied. **“You cannot find it until you find yourself, and it will not break the spell until you touch its heart.”**

“What does that mean?” Enjolras asked. “The Mirror has a heart? How do I touch it?” No reply. Apparently the voice wouldn’t be helping them any further. Enjolras sank to his knees on the bank of the frozen lake, staring at the flat, frosted, reflectionless surface. “I can’t find it until I find myself… what does that even mean?”

“Enj, look,” Cosette murmured. She was pointing at a second tunnel out of the cave, next to the entrance of the one they’d got in by. “That must be the path to the Mirror.”

“Let’s go then!” Grantaire started forwards, but Jehan held up a hand.

“Maybe you guys should wait here,” they told the Wizards. “We’ll go with Enj and look for the Mirror.”

The Faeries headed down the tunnel, searching for any clue that might lead them to the Mirror of Truth. Enjolras brought up the rear, and as they continued towards what Courfeyrac said was a chamber that split off two ways, he noticed another tunnel that branched off the main one, which no one else had noticed.

 _Huh…_ His friends were continuing forward, and with a curious frown, Enjolras broke off from the group and hurried down the smaller tunnel. He came to a halt when he reached a dead end, but as he approached, he realized there was a mirror set into the wall. He approached it slowly, flinching as he caught sight of his monstrous visage, but continued forwards. _I need to touch its heart…_

He reached out a flipper to the center of the mirror, which, to his surprise, melted away the second he touched it – revealing an entrance to another cave. Enjolras took a deep breath, gathered his robe up so he wouldn’t trip on it, and stepped into the cave.

 

* * *

 

 

It was at this moment that the other Faeries realized he was missing, and the call went up. “ENJOLRAS?”

“ENJOLRAS, WHERE ARE YOU?”

Enjolras didn’t hear them, but the voices echoed back towards the Wizards, and Grantaire immediately ran after the Faeries. He found them in a chamber that split off in two directions. “He’s not with you?”

Courfeyrac shook his head. “We didn’t see him wander off,” he said worriedly, and Grantaire nodded.

“OK. You guys take the tunnel on the left, I’ll take the one on the right.”

 

* * *

 

Grantaire’s tunnel looped around in a curve, coming out at medium-sized cave with another frozen lake in it – this one unfrosted and glowing with golden magic. And standing at the bank, gazing mesmerized at the surface, was –

“Enjolras!” Grantaire sighed in relief. “There you are.”

Enjolras nodded slowly, as though in a trance. “I think it’s the Mirror,” he whispered. To Grantaire’s shock, he leaned down, stretching out a flipper to touch it –

“Wait! Maybe you shouldn’t touch it!”

Enjolras stopped and turned to face him. “Maybe you’re right,” he said thoughtfully, before kneeling on the bank and gazing at his reflection again. “But this might be the only way to become myself again!” He stared determinedly into the water through the clear ice. “Mirror, please make me _me_ again. Please.” The water continued to glow, but nothing changed, and Enjolras’ face became panicked. “Please. PLEASE! What am I doing wrong?!”

Grantaire knelt next to him, and reached out to take his hand, but Enjolras flinched away. “Don’t look at me,” he whispered. He sounded _broken. “Please.”_

“Why not?”

“You don’t understand.” Enjolras’ shoulders shook, as if he was barely keeping from sobbing. “You can’t see what I really look like because of Jehan’s spell. If you knew…”

Grantaire sighed; it was time for him to come clean. “Enj, please don’t freak,” he said softly, “but… I _can_ see what you really look like. Green skin and all.”

Enjolras froze. “No. That – that can’t –” he said jerkily, and Grantaire contined.

“Jehan never cast a spell. They told me the truth – that you’d been transformed into a swamp creature… and that you didn’t want me to see what you looked like. I figured if I just acted normal…”

“You mean…” Enjolras whispered, “you… stayed? Even though I look like a Swamp Thing? You didn’t run away?”

“Me? Run away?” Grantaire laughed. “Why would I run away? You’re a beautiful person, inside and out, Enj.” He glanced over at the entrance to the cave, where Cosette, Jehan, Éponine and Courfeyrac were standing. “Guys, tell him what you see when you look at him.”

Courfeyrac stepped into the cave. “I see an awesome person who’s never afraid to say what’s on his mind,” he smiled. Jehan joined him.

“I see someone who is caring, kind, and brave.”

“I see a brilliant planner,” Éponine added. “And someone who never fails to make me laugh, whether intentional or not.” Cosette was the last to step into the cave, smiling fondly.

“And I see a warm, wonderful, supportive friend.”

“Really?” Enjolras whispered. “That’s how you all feel about me?” He turned at the surface of the lake, staring at his reflection again. “I thought everyone just saw me as… a pretty face.” Two tiny saltwater tears dripped down his face, landing on the surface of the ice, which, to everyone’s surprise, broke apart.

Grantaire reached for his flipper again, and this time, Enjolras didn’t pull away. “You _were_ beautiful before,” Grantaire said. “And you’re still beautiful now – inside _and_ out.” He reached into the pocket of his uniform and pulled out a little box wrapped in lilac and yellow crepe paper. “This is for you – for your birthday.” Enjolras took the box, staring at it in confusion, and carefully unwrapped it and opened the box. He gasped at what was inside, and Grantaire smiled. “I made it,” he said quietly. “It’s a promise ring. It’s to say that I’ll love you forever and ever, no matter what you look like. You’re my sun-god, Enj. You’re my Apollo.”

Enjolras pulled the silvery ring out of the box. It was crowned with a tiny enamel rosette – blue in the center, then a ring of white, and the outside was red. “It’s beautiful,” he whispered in awe. He pulled Grantaire into a tight hug. “Thank you, Grantaire. This is… it’s the best present anyone’s ever given me.”

Suddenly, the surface of the lake glowed white, and pure magic shot out of it, filling the room and making everyone screw up their eyes against the glare. Grantaire held up his hands to shield his face, but the glow dimmed and vanished after a moment, and he opened his eyes again. He was shocked to see Enjolras was no longer next to him; he was standing at the edge of the lake staring at his hands with a gobsmacked expression on his face – for they were hands, not flippers. He was 100%, fully, completely human again.

They’d touched the heart of the Mirror.

 **“You did well, Faery of The Shining Sun,”** the voice echoed through the cave. **“You saw yourself as you really are.”**

“About time too,” Enjolras grinned. “I was starting to think it wasn’t going to work.”

 **“But it did,”** the voice said, and it almost sounded as though the owner was _smiling._ **“It began to work the second you realized you were worth more than your looks.”**

Enjolras positively beamed. “Hear that, guys? It’s official: I’m more than just a pretty face.”

“Aaaaand he’s back,” Cosette laughed. Grantaire got to his feet.

“So, what do you guys say we head for home?”

“YES!” Courfeyrac gasped. “I’m so tired I could _literally_ sleep forever.”

“And coming from Courf,” Éponine added, “when _he_ says ‘literally’, he means it!”

Everyone laughed, except Enjolras, who looked sad again. “Home,” he said hollowly.

Cosette gasped, realizing what he meant. Enjolras didn’t have a place to call home any more. “What do you say you spend the next five weeks of holiday on Earth with me, Enj?” she suggested, and Enjolras nodded.

“Thanks Cosette. I’d like that.”

 

* * *

 

Five weeks felt like no time at all; Enjolras was still rather unadjusted to Earth ways, and there were near misses several times when he’d forgotten the ‘no magic in public’ rule. One particularly memorable incident was when he’d seen a spider on the floor and out of habit blasted it to pieces. While the floors in the Magic Dimension were designed to withstand magical impact, the floors on Earth decidedly _weren’t_ , and it had been a very awkward call to the fire department to explain that a perfectly circular hole had somehow been burned through both the hardwood and the plaster. It was rather a relief to head back to Magix – Cosette would miss her father like mad, but the less risk of Enjolras exposing Faeries to Paris, the better.

Professor Javert, head of discipline and combat, was rather flustered when they arrived, but seemed very glad to talk to them and take a break from attempting to organize Faery freshmen. He was impressed to hear of their journey to the Mirror of Truth, but rather concerned at the events that had led up to it, and Cosette and Enjolras decided to ease his nerves by helping keep the new students in line. It was harder than they’d expected though…

“So that’s Cornelia Ocovorna… and that’s Lianna, Duchess of Vinetro… Oh come now, don’t all crowd me at once!” Javert complained. He shook his head. “Every year it’s the same; the first day is when chaos breaks out at Musain. They get more undisciplined every year, I swear.” He adjusted his monocle, and glanced at Enjolras and Cosette. “Oh, you two don’t need to bother here. Headmaster Myriel will be out in a second – you go and put your things away.”

Cosette glanced worriedly at one little girl who was clutching her suitcase with white knuckles. While the other freshmen were greeting each other and introducing themselves, this girl stood away from the crowd, practically shaking with nerves. Cosette was about to go over and greet her, but someone beat her to it.

“Hi there!” Roselyne said cheerfully to the girl, with Lottie fluttering behind her. Jehan must not have arrived yet; otherwise Roselyne would be clinging to them. “Whatcha doing all by yourself?”

The girl looked startled, but not unfriendly, and replied, “It’s just… I missed the Freshman Faery Fair – you know, the party they put on at the start of summer for new students to get to know each other? – and I don’t know anyone here.”

“Don’t worry about that!” Roselyne beamed. “Leave it to us, and in a few weeks you’ll be friends with everyone!”

“Absowutwey!” Lottie added, and a smile broke across the girl’s face.

A surprise awaited the Amis when they reached their apartment: Musichetta was back! Enjolras was eager to tell her everything that had conspired since they’d said goodbye, and launched into the story with great excitement.

“You should have seen me, Musichetta!” he said grandly. “I’ve never felt so brave as when I spoke to the Ice Giants!”

“Yeah, totally brave,” Éponine sniggered. “‘Help, please let me have my face back! Turn me back, turn me back!’”

Musichetta burst out laughing, as did the other Amis, and Enjolras rolled his eyes fondly. “Very funny, Ponine, but that curse really softened my skin and opened up my pores – check it out!”

Éponine wrinkled her nose. “I’ll pass on that, thanks.”

Cosette wandered over to the window, and grinned down at the courtyard. “Hey, did you guys see how many new students there are this year?” she asked.

Jehan nodded. “Yeah! On my way up here I met a girl who’s really interested in tropical plants! She comes from a realm that’s filled with giant palm trees!”

Courfeyrac got to his feet. “That sounds cool! Sorry, I gotta run – I promised I’d video-call Ferre as soon as I was settled in.”

Jehan made a cooing noise, before turning to Musichetta, who was absently staring into the distance. “Hey, Chetta, I finally got my hands on a clipping of Whisperian pine – wanna see it?”

Musichetta startled and shook her head. “Sorry, Jehan, I’ve gotta unpack.” She left the room, and Jehan frowned after her. Musichetta had seemed… different since she’d returned from Andros. She didn’t act any different when chatting, but Jehan had noticed her staring into the distance with an empty look in her eyes every time the conversation died down.

Apparently Cosette had noticed it too, and pointed it out to Jehan as soon as they were alone in their room together. “I’m so worried about Chetta, Jehan,” she sighed. “She seems so… out of it.”

“Things must have been really bad on Andros,” Jehan sighed. “No one knows what happened; King Terredor is keeping it pretty hush-hush. If Chetta doesn’t wanna talk to anyone about it, what can we do?”

“Maybe she just needs some time,” Cosette agreed, and Jehan got up from where they were seated on her bed.

“I’m gonna go for a little wander.”

 

* * *

 

 

Jehan drifted around the school aimlessly, letting their mind wander too, until they noticed an odd smell coming from a lab. “Smells like… Lynphean lime,” they murmured in confusion. “Not natural… it’s a perfume. But only one person I know uses Lynphean lime perfume…” They swung open the door delightedly. “Zeena?!”

The girl in the lab turned around, and a bright smile spread across her face. “Jehan!”

Jehan hurried towards their cousin and pulled her into a hug. “Zeena, it’s so good to see you!” They pulled away to examine her, and mock-scowled. “And of course you’re taller than me. Oh, I’m so happy you got into Musain!”

“Me too!” Zeena laughed. She had straight blonde hair, tanned skin, a round face with naturally pink cheeks and a button nose, and her voice was soft and sweet. Even though they were both very different in appearance, you could tell Jehan and Zeena were related; they had a similar sweetness about them. “I’m so excited to be here. It’s everything you said it would be – I love it!”

“What were you doing in the lab?”

“I was looking for fertilizer for my Lynphean Honeysuckle,” Zeena explained. “I would have brought some from home, but the bag kept dripping.”

“It’s in the cupboard next to the miniature palms,” Jehan pointed it out. “I’m so excited that you’re here! I have so much to tell you!”

 

* * *

 

 

Enjolras was out and about too, but this was more due to an incident with his luggage; apparently a freshman had picked up one of his suitcases by mistake and wandered off with it. This was a bit of a disaster; Enjolras could no longer ask to be sent more clothes from home, and the suitcase the freshman had left behind was full of glittery pink skirts, blouses and jumpers. Enjolras wouldn’t have minded (what was the gender binary, anyway?) but pink was _not_ a flattering colour on him, so now he needed to locate the unfortunate sixteen-year-old girl who was doubtless very confused at the case of graphic t-shirts she’d ended up with. Luckily, help was found as he dragged the case along the corridor and someone called out to him, “Prince Enjolras?!”

“Huh?”

A vaguely familiar sixteen-year-old girl was walking towards him, and as she got closer Enjolras’ eyes widened in recognition. “Nova! How’s my favourite funky little lesbian?”

Nova burst out laughing. She was petite, with rainbow-streaked hair, a sunny smile, and the tackiest fashion sense Enjolras had ever seen. “Absolutely fucking superb, now that she’s found her favourite gay doofus. What’s with the suitcase?”

Enjolras rolled his eyes with a smile. “Some freshman girl took my case by mistake. This one’s full of glittery pink stuff.” Nova and Enjolras had been close friends since they were little; she lived in the town next to the palace and was of suitable age to be a playmate to him. Their friendship had been cemented when they’d discovered a shared love of history books, and they’d spent many hours holed up in the palace library, reading to their hearts’ content. “What’s been going on with you? And what’s been happening on Solaria?”

“Things have been good,” Nova laughed. “I got into a very exclusive magic college; maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“I daresay I have,” Enjolras chuckled. “Any gossip to report?”

Nova shrugged. “The Baron of Eos broke off his engagement to the Countess Elenora.” Suddenly, her eyes widened. “Oh, and Countess Giselle and her son Lucas – that’s a whole ‘nother story.” Enjolras pursed his lips as Nova continued, “OK, so the Countess is already acting like she’s the Queen, can you believe it?”

“What?!” Enjolras said sharply, and Nova nodded.

“Check out the most recent copy of _Solaria Today._ ” She pulled a crumpled magazine out of her cat-shaped satchel and handed it to him. From the glossy cover, surrounded by article descriptions and small pictures of other celebrities, Countess Giselle’s face smirked up at him as she cradled her chin in her hands.

“She’s wearing my mother’s engagement ring!”

“The King basically never appears in public anymore,” Nova continued. “The Countess ‘takes care’ of _everything!_ State finances, the appointment of new ministers, meetings with other royals –” she broke off as Enjolras crushed the magazine in his fist.

“And my father just rolled over and _drooled?”_ he snapped. “I don’t think so. He’s always done everything in his power to connect to his people. Giselle must have cursed him; I’m sure of it!” He noticed a picture on the back of the magazine, and straightened it out, eyes widening in fury. “And what is _this?!”_

“Lucas has become a regular on _Solaria Stars_ ,” Nova explained. The picture showed Lucas, wearing a mauve suit with a navy tie, sitting on a couch and laughing with Élodie Étoile, Solaria’s favourite casual entertainment hostess.

“The most popular talk-show in Solaria? This is ridiculous! Did the whole planet fall apart when I left or something? And if Lucas thinks he’s going to replace me as Crown Prince, he’s got another think coming!” Enjolras kicked the suitcase in anger, groaning as the lock popped open and the pink glittery clothes spilled out of it. Nova raised her eyebrows.

“You want some help with that?”

 _“_ Yes, _please!”_

 

* * *

 

Musichetta lay on her bed, flicking through a book but not really taking anything in, when she heard a knock at the door and looked up to see Jehan poking their head into the room.

“Hey, Chetta,” they smiled, and she smiled back.

“Hey.”

“Listen…” Jehan kept smiling, although they had a worried look in their eyes. “We’ve all been a little worried about you… is everything OK? You seem kinda down, and whatever it is, we’re here for you.”

Musichetta knew her smile was becoming a little strained, and she nodded. “Thanks, Jehan, but I’m fine. I’m just going to finish my book and then catch up with all of you later.”

“Oh, of course,” Jehan nodded. “Well, Headmaster Myriel wants to talk to all the third years, so I’ll see you there then.”

“Sure,” Musichetta heard herself say. “See you there.” Jehan left, and she tried to focus on her book, but… nothing. Musichetta marked her page and closed it with a sigh.

 

* * *

 

Myriel was already in the center of the auditorium when she arrived with the last few stragglers, and Musichetta hurried over to sit with her friends. Myriel hadn’t changed at all over the summer; a tiny little old man with long white hair and bright blue eyes, today wearing lilac robes patterned with gold stars and silver crescent moons. His smile was as warm and serene as ever, and Musichetta did actually feel a little better in his presence.

“A warm welcome to all of you,” he began. “I have a few announcements. First I’d like to address you about an upcoming exam in magic.”

The room erupted in agitated mutters, and Myriel clapped his hands. “Please, let me finish,” he said calmly, and the room fell silent again. “Thank you. This year’s exam is a very important step in your training as Faeries. In your first year, your goal was to unlock your basic transformation. Last year’s goal was to earn your Charmix, and I am proud to say that all of you managed it before April was out. This year’s goal will be to earn a new power entirely – should you be successful, you will gain access to new abilities, such as the use of Faery Dust and the power of miniaturization.” The room once again erupted in mutters, but this time they were speculating and excited. “This is the only way you will be able to pass your third year and become a true Faery; those who manage it will be rewarded greatly, as their lives will be changed forever. However, let’s not forget that with greater powers come greater responsibilities.”

Courfeyrac raised his hand, and Myriel nodded at him. “Sir, will we have to prepare for this test?”

Myriel shook his head. “No special preparation is necessary.” Courfeyrac’s shoulders, which had been tensed, dropped in relief, and Myriel continued, “The test will find each of you at a critical moment in time; you must demonstrate both the determination to protect the people of your home planet, and the willingness to make a sacrifice to protect them. Only then will you achieve this new transformation.”

“So basically I’ve got to rescue someone from Solaria?” Enjolras muttered. “No problem, as long as it’s not Lucas.”

“You will then be able to fulfill your destiny as an Enchantix Faery, and continue to protect your people and our world from evil and destruction,” Myriel finished. “Now, some notices about curfews…”

Musichetta barely heard the rest of the assembly, staring at her hands and barely keeping from shaking. She didn’t notice Cosette next to her in a similar state, and before she knew it, they were being dismissed.

 

* * *

 

When the assembly ended, Cosette headed outside to sit on the bench next to the rose garden and sort out her thoughts, which were all over the place and leaving her barely able to focus. _Rescue someone from my own world. How am I supposed to do that? Domino was destroyed such a long time ago; I’m too late to save **anyone.** My mother isn’t quite dead, but she’s certainly not alive, and I have no idea how to even **begin** searching for her. How can I protect my own citizens if they’re already beyond saving?_

 

* * *

 

Musichetta had a surprise waiting for her when she got back to the apartment after going for a walk to clear her head: her friends were all silently sitting on the sofa and armchairs, staring intently at her.

“Can I help you?” she asked uncertainly, and Éponine nodded.

“Even if you don’t want to talk about whatever’s got you in such a funk,” she began, “we want to try and cheer you up, whether that takes going out tonight, or staying in and painting each others nails, or _whatever._ ” Her voice softened. “We care about you, Chetta, and we’re _worried_ about you. We want to help.”

Musichetta smiled shakily, thanking whatever deity had allowed her to have such caring friends. “Thanks, Ponine, but I’m not sure if anyone can help.”

“With what?” Courfeyrac asked. He scooched over on the sofa to make room for her in the middle, and at last Musichetta sat down and took a deep breath.

“My home planet has been attacked,” she began abruptly – there was no need to beat around the bush. “By a vengeful Warlock named Félix Tholomyès. He escaped from the Omega Dimension and invaded Andros. For all we know, he’s unstoppable.” She felt her eyes welling up and the tears beginning to spill over. “My world… my people… everyone is in grave danger.”

“But how could this have happened?” Cosette asked. “Isn’t Omega escape-proof?”

“It’s supposed to be,” Courfeyrac frowned, and Musichetta nodded.

“No one’s ever broken out before. As far as I know, the only way out is through a portal that can only be opened by one of the Great Wizards of Andros, and is constantly watched over by a team of elite mermaid guards. But Tholomyès has broken through the portal and turned the mermaids into something… _evil._ Something _monstrous._ No one knows how he got out, but one thing is for sure. He couldn’t have done it alone. Unfortunately, there is a portal on the Omega Island that he can use to go anywhere in the Magic Dimension. No one is safe from him.”

“Does the Magix council know about this?” Courfeyrac asked, and Musichetta nodded.

“They were informed as soon as the portal was breached. But no one else does. My father doesn't want to cite a Dimension-wide panic.”

“So what’s happening on Andros now?” Enjolras asked.

Musichetta sighed. “We’ve tried everything we can to stop him. Nothing has worked. My father and uncle have declared a state of emergency, and mobilized our combined forces. There are search parties day and night, but no one has found him.”

“So, every attempt at stopping him has failed,” Cosette murmured, and Enjolras’ eyes widened.

“Please Cosette; do not say what I think you’re about to say.”

“Enj, the whole Magic Dimension is in danger,” Cosette said urgently. “We can’t just sit here and do nothing. We need to help Andros.”

“I agree,” Éponine said, getting to her feet with a frown. “We’re Les Amis!”

“And we never back down from a fight!” Courfeyrac added.

“The people of Andros are in great danger, and we need to prevent Andros from meeting the same horrible fate Domino did seventeen years ago,” Cosette said fiercely. “I wasn’t able to protect my home planet, but Musichetta, we can sure as hell try to protect yours.” She took Musichetta’s hand and squeezed it firmly.

“I’m with you,” Jehan said, and Éponine nodded.

“Me too.”

“Me three!” Courfeyrac added.

“Count me in too,” Enjolras finished, and a proper smile broke across Musichetta’s face for the first time since she’d arrived on Andros.

“Thank you, mes Amis. And _thank you_ , Cosette.” _These are the best friends I could have asked for._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is Andros doomed? Will the Amis find a way to get there in time and defeat Félix Tholomyès?
> 
> Maybe. This is only chapter 4 of 25.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed!!!


	5. In Which Cosette Meets Félix Tholomyès Properly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Musichetta's home planet is at risk of being destroyed, and the Amis decide they need to act immediately if they want any chance of saving it. Meanwhile, Enjolras stays at Musain to cover for their absences and finds himself faking a serious illness...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SUP MY LOVELIES!  
> Guess who only has two weeks of college left before Graduation? ME!  
> Since all our coursework is out of the way, this Thursday we're watching back our Presentation videos. Our prof is letting us wear pyjamas and bring snacks. It's gonna be AWESOME!  
> Enjoy!!

Cosette had thought that Musichetta’s spirits would have been lifted with the knowledge that they would soon be heading to Andros to help fight against Félix Tholomyès, but when they went down to breakfast the next morning, Musichetta was twenty minutes late, and arrived to the table with a haunted expression.

“I just heard from my parents,” she said hoarsely. “Things on Andros have taken a turn for the worse. Everyone untouched by his Mark has taken refuge in the palace – maybe ten families. Nowhere is safe. Spy planes are constantly watching Tholomyès’ hideout, but no one can figure out how to stop him. He’s becoming more powerful every day, and if he isn’t stopped soon –” her voice cracked painfully, and she gulped, shaking. “Andros will be destroyed forever.”

Cosette’s eyes narrowed fiercely, and she beckoned the Amis closer so no one else could hear them. “We go to Andros tonight,” she whispered. “If we want a chance of protecting the planet, we need to act now.” Five heads nodded in agreement, and Courfeyrac topped up everyone’s coffee. They were going to need the energy.

 

* * *

 

There was only one problem: Headmaster Myriel was hardly likely to give them a hall pass for leaving on the second day of classes, especially not to go to another planet that was completely fine as far as the majority of the Magic Dimension was concerned. However, Enjolras had an idea.

“You guys clearly have no experience with getting out of meetings you don’t want to attend,” he laughed, pulling on a hat and scarf. Both were patterned with French flags; he’d been fascinated by the enormous number of tourist tat shops in Paris. How he’d managed to find a woollen hat and scarf in the middle of summer, Cosette had no idea, but she was grateful if it would get them to Andros unnoticed. Enjolras finished adjusting his scarf, and held his hand up to his ear like an imaginary phone.

“Hello, Nurse Dahlia?” he coughed. “I’ve come down with something really gross and I can’t stop –” he faked a sneeze – “sneezing. I don’t think I’ll be able to go to class today, it might be contagious.” He coughed twice and then bowed, performance over.

Cosette snorted. “Not exactly an Oscar-worthy performance, Enj, but I’ll take it.”

Enjolras shrugged. “It always worked on my dad. Speaking of which, I’ll stay here and cover for you guys.”

“You mean you’re passing up the opportunity to battle the forces of evil?” Éponine raised an eyebrow. Enjolras shrugged again.

“I don’t think I’ll be much help in battle,” he sighed. “I’ve got too much on my mind, and I want to start working on a plan to save my dad from Countess Giselle. According to Nova, he’s become a total recluse since their engagement was announced. Something smells fishy. He’s under some kind of spell, I know it! And Giselle has to behind it. She’s not even Queen yet, but she and her dreadful son Lucas are already taking over! There has to be more to this than meets the eye. It feels… evil.”

“We understand, Enj,” Musichetta smiled. “You do what you need to. And as soon as this business with Andros is cleared up, you can bet that we’ll all be there to help you sort out Solaria’s politics.” She pulled him into a hug, and glanced over his shoulder at their friends. “We leave as soon as evening falls.”

 

* * *

 

“Of course I’ll be careful, Marius,” Cosette smiled into her phone. “Yeah, I promise I’ll come back in one piece. No, I’m not going to let some evil Warlock chop off my hand. This isn’t Star Wars. Yeah, I know they’re cinematic masterpieces.” She blushed at his response, giggling. “No, _you_ are. No, _you are!”_

“Is she done saying goodbye yet?” Courfeyrac groaned. “We have about ten minutes before it get dark enough to leave unnoticed. She needs to wrap this call up soon.”

“She’s been saying goodbye for an hour,” Éponine added. “I told her to just text him, but _nooooo._ She apparently needs to explain exactly what’s happening to him in precise detail.”

Musichetta shrugged. “She’s in love. I think I get it. She’s nearly died on missions… how many times now? She doesn’t want to risk not saying goodbye.”

Courfeyrac spun around in his desk chair and held up the clunky green turtle-shaped device he’d been adjusting. “So while Cosette finishes making sure Marius knows she loves him, allow me to show you how we’re going to get out without setting off the alarm that turns on at curfew.”

Éponine made a disbelieving face. “That thing? No offense, Courf, but it kinda looks like a papier-mâché tortoise.”

Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows and lifted the device into the air, pressing a red button on top of it. The device glowed green and hovered at chest height without his support, a panel on the back sliding open to reveal a …calculator?

“Jehan,” he called over his shoulder, “be a dear and shake the mouse on my desktop, would you?”

Jehan obliging wiggled the computer mouse from side to side, switching the screen from stand-by mode to show a search engine called GLIMMR. Apparently Courfeyrac had been searching up coordinates earlier. Courfeyrac glanced at the coordinates on the screen and punched them into the device’s keyboard. A second after he pressed ‘enter’, the device glowed even brighter, and vanished into a rapidly expanding black hole, that stopped when it was about 6 feet in diameter.

“If my calculations are correct,” Courfeyrac said thoughtfully, “this dimensional passage should lead directly to the throne room of Andros’ royal palace. I set it to close after five humanoids pass through –”

“Hold on,” Musichetta spluttered. “This thing will just take us to Andros instantly?! I thought you had to either have a sceptre or a super high power-level to open a portal like that!”

Courfeyrac smirked. “A little bit of Quantum Physics got me around that particular barrier. With the right coordinates, it can take us anywhere. But I wouldn’t recommend outer space without the proper equipment –”

“Whoa!” Cosette had finally finished her lengthy goodbye to Marius and was staring at the black hole with wide, excited eyes. “Is that a wormhole?”

Courfeyrac nodded proudly, relieved that someone was finally impressed with his invention instead of questioning how it worked. “Yup. A perfect combination of science and magic. And, as I was about to say, it can take us anywhere, and I’m very happy to explain how that works later, but right now I opened this wormhole for a very specific reason, and that is getting to Andros to kick this Warlock dude’s butt.” With that, he marched into the portal, and Cosette cheerfully followed him, then Jehan, Éponine (who was still muttering about ‘loopholes’ and ‘bloody geniuses’), and finally Musichetta. Enjolras, clad in grey sweatpants and a red hoodie, called after them, “Kick names and take butt, guys! …Wait, no, reverse that –” The portal closed before he could finish.

Wolter hopped over and scuffled in the way he was wont to do when he wanted picked up, and Enjolras obliged, heading over to his desk phone. “And now, time to do a little acting.”

Simone fluttered after him, looking concerned. “Enjolras, this mission depends on you selling this. You need to be really convincing – maybe cough a bit more?” she suggested. Enjolras nodded in agreement as he finished dialling the number for Nurse Dahlia’s office.

 

* * *

 

Nurse Dahlia was incredibly concerned when her office phone rang shortly after curfew that day. It normally took at least a few days for students to start getting ill, but she’d already had four calls that day about cases of Faery Flu (an illness not at all dissimilar to normal flu, but with the added effect of sneezes that unleashed bursts of uncontrollable magic). “Hello? …All six of you? That is _very_ unfortunate. The important thing is to get plenty of rest and hope that your symptoms have lessened by tomorrow. At least three days off from classes will be necessary for all of you.” The call over, she made a quick note to inform Javert tomorrow. _Ten cases of Faery Flu in one day! This may well be the start of a school-wide epidemic._

 

* * *

 

“I reckon that final sniffle really sold it,” Enjolras grinned as he finished turning off the lights in the apartment, before bouncing into bed. Wolter stretched out at his feet, and Simone tucked herself into her little bed atop his bedside table.

“Great,” she smiled, high-fiving his index finger goodnight. “Let’s hope it works!”

 

* * *

 

Travelling through the wormhole was… unnerving. Cosette thought she much preferred Enjolras’ sceptre, which created a tunnel made of pure sunlight – while the wormhole was dark, heading towards a light at the end of the tunnel. It felt a bit too much like how people described death sometimes for her to be truly at ease. Thankfully, it was over very quickly, and she stepped out into a wide throne room. Her immediate impression was that it was decorated in a somewhat medieval style, with stone walls and floor covered in brightly coloured tapestries and carpets. The thrones were up on a low dais, and in them were sat –

“Mama! Daddy!” Musichetta smiled, hurrying towards them. The dignified man rose to his feet while the beautiful woman beside him smiled lovingly as she approached. Even if Cosette hadn't known who they were, she would have instantly been able to identify them as Musichetta’s parents. Musichetta’s mother had the same vibrant red hair and big dark eyes, but her ears were distinctly more pointed, and her eyelashes were unusually long and greenish. She wore an elegant high-collared bluebell silk dress with gold embroidery, and her hair was twisted through with golden beads that matched her gold and sapphire diadem.

Musichetta’s father was tall, plump and broad-shouldered, with long black hair, beard and moustache. He had the same nose and lips as Musichetta, and wore a white billowy shirt and trousers, heavy brown boots, and a purple and gold tunic. His crown was gold and studded with amethysts, and he hurried to embrace his daughter. “My darling girl,” he rumbled.

Courfeyrac smiled smugly at the rest of the Amis. “Told you it would work,” he grinned. A second later his device fell out of the air and bonked him on the head. “Ouch!”

Musichetta turned from her father and bent to hug her mother, who still hadn’t got up from her throne. “My sweet Chetta,” she sighed. She had a low, velvety voice that made everyone present feel incredibly calm.

“I couldn’t stay away,” Musichetta murmured. “Knowing you were in danger… I was so worried about you. My friends decided to come with me.” Her parents both turned towards the Amis with curious, tilted heads. “They want to help save Andros.”

Cosette and Éponine both curtsied, Courfeyrac bowed, and Jehan did something that seemed to be a combination of both. Musichetta’s father gave them a wan smile. “Thank you,” he sighed, “but really, you should not have come here.”

Their shock must have shown on their faces, because Musichetta’s mother continued, “It’s no longer safe here. Tholomyès is extremely dangerous.”

“And soon he’ll threaten the entire Magic Dimension,” Musichetta’s father finished. Musichetta frowned.

“But we can stop him, Daddy. We’ve fought the forces of evil before and won.”

Her father sighed. “I admire your courage, Musichetta, and I know you have achieved great feats before, but this is not your fight. My spy planes have been keeping watch on his hideout for days, but we cannot figure out a plan of attack. His magic is too powerful for any of our weapons.”

“He’s ruthless, darling,” her mother added. “If you are insistent on joining this fight, you must be extremely careful.”

That wasn’t a ‘yes’, but it also wasn’t a ‘no’. Musichetta nodded, careful not to let her excitement show. “We’ll be incredibly careful, Mama, I promise.”

 

* * *

 

At that moment, Félix Tholomyès was leading Patron-Minette through the tunnels of the Omega Island. Every so often, they would pass a window into the ocean, and Tholomyès would pause to admire his Mer-monsters. “Everything is going according to plan,” he chuckled the fifth time this happened. He glanced over his shoulder at the three young Witches, who were watching him with undisguised admiration. “Soon the entire Magic Dimension will be at my feet.”

Babet smirked delightedly. “And we’ll be rid of Les Amis once and for all,” he grinned. Tholomyès nodded, his lips curving into a smirk too.

 

* * *

 

The Amis hurried down the stairs to the edge of the palace’s dock, where the land abruptly vanished and the swirling green sea started. Musichetta sighed as she stared at the swirling waters.

“I remember this place was so beautiful,” she whispered. “I just can't believe what has happened to my ocean.”

Cosette approached the water’s edge with a frown, crouching down to scoop up a handful. “The water is filthy,” she murmured. “It almost looks like a toxic spill – AAAAAAARGH!”

Something jumped out of the water at her; something skeletal and green, with mad eyes and fangs and claws, something unnatural. Éponine yanked Cosette back out of the way, and the thing vanished below the swelling surface. Musichetta made an anguished noise.

“The Mermaids were beautiful too,” she said sadly. “Then Tholomyès turned them into these horrible, _horrible_ creatures. He has an entire army of Mer-monsters to fight for him!” She raised her hands, forming a pair of Morphix binoculars, and held them up to her eyes, focussing on another Mer-monster, which had poked its head above the water to snarl at them. “They all have this weird tattoo on their necks – it’s red, and shaped like a circle with some kind of insignia inside it. According to my parents, that’s his Mark. If you bear it, you are under his control.”

“He may be strong, but no one is unbeatable,” Courfeyrac pointed out. “He was imprisoned in the Omega Dimension, right? Someone beat him before, and _we_ can beat him again. We need to get a better sense of his power, and from there we can figure out his weakness.”

“But how?” Cosette asked.

“One step at a time,” Courfeyrac said thoughtfully. “Let’s try that Mermaid.” He pointed at the skeletal monster, which was now snarling at them from atop a rock. “We’ll see if our magic can remove the Mark, and if it can, we can reduce his Mer-monster army.”

“That’s all well and good,” Musichetta frowned, “but once we deal with the Mermaids, how do we send him back to the Omega Dimension?”

“Don’t worry about that yet,” Cosette said firmly. “For now, let’s kick names and take butt. Amis Charmix!”

Now transformed, the five Faeries flew at the Mer-monster atop the rock and hurriedly converged their magic onto her, trapping her instantly in a golden bubble of light. The Mer-monster screeched and swiped at them with her claws, and Musichetta stared imploringly into her eyes.

“Don’t be afraid,” she said calmly. “We’re your friends. We want to help you –”

The Mer-monster slapped the light away with her powerful tail-flukes, sending all five Faeries flying backwards to land in the filthy water.

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès abruptly came to a stop, and raised his hand to open a viewing portal. The Witches peered eagerly over his shoulder, and all four of them burst out laughing as they watched the Mer-monster send the Faeries flying.

“How cute,” Tholomyès purred. “The Faeries are trying to save the Mermaids – but they don’t know a thing about how to undo dark magic!”

 

* * *

 

Musichetta broke the surface, spitting out a mouthful of seawater. “We can’t give up!” she yelled. “Now, let’s do this! ALL TOGETHER!”

The Amis once again converged their magic onto the writhing Mer-monster, and this time there was a golden flash, leaving behind a shocked-looking Mermaid – no longer gnarled and fanged, but beautiful and angelic-looking. “It’s working!” Cosette yelled.

“The spell is breaking!” Musichetta added delightedly, but she had spoken too soon. A second later, there was a flash of black light, and the Mermaid’s features once again became hideous and twisted. Her tail thrashed, smacking Courfeyrac hard in the face and knocking him into the water, where he floated, unconscious and face-down. Éponine and Jehan hurried to pull him back into the air.

“You OK, Courf?” Jehan checked, and Courfeyrac nodded a moment later, fluttering his wings.

“I’m good.”

“She seems a little cranky,” Éponine commented, cracking her knuckles. “How about a little music to sooth the savage beast? But it has to be at the right frequency. I’d say high frequency’s good, how about you guys?” Without waiting for an answer, she blasted the Mer-monster with magenta light, making her shriek louder and writhe harder, before she dived back under the surface with a splash.

When the Mer-monster didn’t reappear, Éponine smirked. “Aww, I guess she didn’t like it,” she laughed. “She probably won’t want to hear the remix.”

Jehan chuckled too. “Maybe she prefers country,” they joked, and in spite of the seriousness of the situation, the Amis found themselves laughing too.

 

* * *

 

Enjolras woke up to the sound of someone hammering on the front door, and rolled out of bed with a groan to see who it was. To his surprise, Nova was standing in the doorway, looking the most worried he’d ever seen her.

“Enj, let me in,” she hissed. “It’s an emergency!”

Enjolras obligingly opened the door, peering out to make sure no teachers were in view, and Nova slipped into the apartment, closing the door behind her.

“What’s going on?” Enjolras asked worriedly. “Did something happen on Solaria? Is my father in trouble?”

Nova shook her head. “No, no, no. It’s –” Someone else knocked on the door, and Nova’s eyes widened to unnatural proportions. Understandably concerned, Enjolras didn’t immediately open the door, but instead called through asking who it was.

Worst-case scenario. It was Javert, who explained that Enjolras’ dorm was the fifth one to have an outbreak of Faery Flu so far, and Nurse Dahlia had sent him up with a tray of ginger-lemon-and-honey tea. “Are you alone?”

Enjolras nearly panicked, but a sudden stroke of luck meant that most of the Piskies and Wolter had come out to see who was at the door, and he hurriedly cast an illusion spell before opening the door.

“Of course not, Professor,” he smiled, and Javert peered in to see all six Amis crowding around the door. “See? We’re all here.”

“…Good,” Javert said, a little uncertainly. He awkwardly stepped into the room, feeling six sets of eyes fixed on him as he set the tray of teacups down. “Looks like you’re all feeling a bit better.”

Cosette nodded enthusiastically. “We are feeling a little better. Thank you!” Her voice was unusually high and squeaky. _Must be the Faery Flu,_ Javert tutted internally. _Pesky illness._

Jehan suddenly stretched and took a great graceful leap towards the table, dipping their nose and mouth into the cup and lapping at the tea like a puppy. Javert tutted internally again. Faery Flu was notorious for making patients take leave of their senses in absurd ways. Cosette hurriedly followed them and grabbed her own cup.

“I think a nice hot cup of tea is just what the doctor ordered,” she squeaked.

Javert nodded awkwardly, and adjusted his monocle. “Well, hopefully I’ll see you back in class in a couple of days.” He turned towards the door, and heard Cosette speak again as he headed out.

“Of course Professor; we should definitely be up and about by then.”

Nova rolled out from behind the sofa the second the door closed. “Did he buy it?”

“I think so,” Enjolras sighed, snapping his fingers. Cosette, Courfeyrac, Éponine and Musichetta all vanished, leaving Juliette, Abby, Manon and Simone in their places. “Although, ‘Jehan’ had a little trouble with their… _bunnyisms._ ” A second snap, and Jehan turned back into Wolter, who squeaked apologetically.

 

* * *

 

The Amis hurriedly flew over the water, searching for any sign of activity besides the cursed Mermaids, eventually finding something unusual just off the coast of the Omega Island. Unfortunately, that something unusual was an enormous tidal wave, a hundred times bigger than the one on Magix.

“TURN BACK!” Musichetta screamed, and all five Faeries wheeled around, fluttering away from the wave in terror. They couldn’t outfly it, and as a last resort, Musichetta yanked her four friends into the filthy water again, waiting until they heard the wave crash on the shore of the mainland to resurface. “This is all my fault,” she groaned. “I dragged you into this; I’m putting you all in danger!”

“You didn’t drag us into this,” Cosette said firmly. “We accompanied you willingly. Amis never let each other face danger alone.”

Musichetta shook her head. “This is my fight, not yours! Andros is my home planet. Tholomyès is turning everyone who crosses him into mindless minions, and no doubt absorbing their powers too. Not to mention, he has the entirety of the Omega Dimension’s prisoners at his disposal for an army. Are you guys sure you want to face that? I _have_ to fight, but you can get away and stay out of this war. You can save yourselves!”

Cosette shook her head angrily. “I couldn’t stop evil from ravaging my home planet and turning it into a frozen wasteland. But I’m more than capable of stopping that from happening here.” She glared fiercely at Musichetta. “We’re here to help you, Chetta. This became our war the second innocent lives were affected. This became our war the second _you_ were affected.”

 

* * *

 

Still staring into the viewing portal, Babet cackled delightedly. “They actually think they have a chance,” he mused. Claquesous nodded next to him.

“I find it hilarious when they act all tough like that,” she sniggered. “It’s like being threatened by glittery cupcakes.”

“It’s pathetic,” Gueulemer chortled. “They’re going down _so hard.”_

“It’s laughable, really,” Babet continued, smirking. “They think they can just stick together and stop Félix, but they can’t touch him – and they don’t even know it! So what do you say, Cousins? Shall we head on up and say hello?”

Claquesous and Gueulemer were both grinning madly, when suddenly movement emerging from a shadowy tunnel to their left made all three Witches jump. Félix Tholomyès was leaning in the doorway, smiling wickedly. “By all means,” he hummed. “There’s nothing that cheers me up more than catching up with old friends.”

 

* * *

 

Back in the air, the Amis flew in a tight diamond formation, with Cosette taking the lead. “Remember,” she called over her shoulder, “our best bet is to use the element of surprise. We hit him from the east and catch him off guard. Courf, can you create a diversion?”

Courfeyrac nodded. “No problem. I’ve been working on my illusion spells.”

Éponine grinned determinedly. “What do you say we crash Tholomyès’ party?”

“No need to crash,” a high, cold voice smirked from below them. Cosette’s blood ran cold as she recognised it. “We’ve been expecting you!”

“YOU!” Cosette snarled as a grey storm cloud floated into view. Atop it were stood Gueulemer, Claquesous, and Babet, all smirking wickedly at them. “What are _you_ doing here?!”

“The Omega Dimension is so _boring_ in the off-season,” Gueulemer sighed mockingly, and Claquesous nodded.

“So we broke out to wreak some havoc,” she added. Babet huffed his white-blond hair out of his face, his smirk never changing.

“Maybe even destroy a few old friends,” he cackled, blasting ice at them. The Faeries scattered, and Courfeyrac glared furiously at Patron-Minette.

“I should have known you were part of the pollution problem,” he snarled. Claquesous hovered in mid-air, leaning back as if lounging, and began lazily blasting purple light at them.

“So, we’ve got this new friend named Félix Tholomyès,” she hummed. “Maybe you've heard of him? He’s only the most powerful Warlock in the entire Universe.”

Gueulemer, as always, didn’t bother with mid-duel banter, instead preferring to blast green lightning in every direction at once. Unfortunately, Jehan wasn’t quick enough to avoid one such blast, and began falling, unconscious, towards the ocean. Cosette hurriedly flew after them, and Babet watched in amusement.

“Careful not to get any of that dirty ocean water on your outfit,” he laughed, then pondered, “although it _would_ be an improvement. Might want to de-ice those wings too!”

“What are you babbling about?!” Cosette snarled up at him – too distracted to avoid the blast that came her way a second later. To her horror, her wings were instantly frozen solid!

“COSETTE!” Musichetta yelled, but Claquesous blasted purple light at her, forcing her to dodge.

“Stay out of this, Musichetta!”

Luckily, Courfeyrac and Éponine were able to catch Jehan a few feet above the water. Cosette, now falling herself, let out a primal snarl, causing tendrils of fiery magic to instantly melt the ice off her wings. Now able to fly again, and confident that Jehan wasn’t in immediate danger of drowning, she zoomed at Babet, firing blast after blast of fire at him. Babet responded with multiple ice-bolts, and the resulting steam from the collisions made it very hard for anyone else to see what was going on. Cosette had caught up to him, and both filled their hands with magic, circling each other and waiting to see who would strike first.

 

* * *

 

 

Tholomyès found himself intrigued as he watched the battle through his viewing portal. _That girl, Cosette, is very powerful,_ he thought to himself. _She’s not like the others… I can feel it. Something is different. It’s as though I’ve always known her, but she can’t be more than a teenager. Who is she really?_

* * *

“You’d think that by now,” Cosette snarled at Babet, “you would know how things end when you face off with me, Babet!” A blast of fire issued from her fingers, hitting Babet so quickly he had no time to dodge or deflect the spell. He was knocked out of the air.

Jehan grinned as Babet fell past them. “It always ends with you three going blubbering back to Mummy.”

“Or this time, back to Tholomyès,” Éponine added.

“Speaking of whom,” Musichetta said coldly, “we’d like to deliver him a message.”

“We won’t take his hostile takeover lying down!” Courfeyrac said fiercely. “But we will take _you_ down!”

“I call kicking Claquesous’ butt,” Éponine grinned. Claquesous furiously blasted purple rings at her, and Éponine dodged easily, blasting magenta rings back at her.

Babet came to his senses about twenty feet above the ocean, and hurriedly shot ice at it, creating a circular platform he could land on. The Amis didn’t notice, as Musichetta was in the process of Morphixing Claquesous and Gueulemer into a sticky pink cocoon.

“Tell Tholomyès that it’s time for him to pack up and leave Andros!” she spat.

Babet groaned in embarrassment as he watched Claquesous and Gueulemer squirming around in the cocoon, unable to get free. “Those Faeries may have won this time, but they have _no idea_ what they’re truly up against!” he hissed. He narrowed his eyes up at where the Faeries were reconvening, and a nasty smirk spread across his face as he realized he had a clear shot at Cosette. He just had to focus and…

She didn’t see the chunk of ice flying towards her. She probably didn’t see it even after it hit her, because it collided with her back so hard she couldn’t even open her mouth before she collapsed. Her friends all screamed, and Babet watched Cosette freefall towards the ocean, her exposed back now decorated with a scarlet gash. All four Faeries immediately flew after Cosette, but Babet blasted chunks of ice at them, forcing them to dodge – and Cosette hit the water, vanishing under the surface.

 

* * *

 

Cosette’s first thought as she sank into the grimy water, was that although it was very cold, her back was extremely warm. Her second thought was that the salt was making her eyes sting, and that she ought to close them. Her third thought was that she was very tired… She felt her back hit stone, and wondered why there was a floor at the bottom of the sea, and then knew no more.

Cosette awoke a little later. How long she’d been unconscious, she wasn’t sure, but one thing was clear: she was no longer underwater. She blinked sleepily, taking in her blurry surroundings. Apparently, she was in a sort of stone temple with no walls – just arches around the sides, almost like a miniature Coliseum with only one level. And there was a shadowy person standing over her…

“Hello, Cosette,” the person purred, their voice deep and velvety, pleasant to listen to – but there was something disturbing about it. He knelt next to her as she struggled to sit up, and his face came into view. There was something familiar about his shaggy blonde hair, straight nose, and sculpted chin and cheekbones, but she couldn’t place where from. He reached out a gloved hand to her, and she flinched away nervously.

“Oh, don’t be afraid,” he said softly. “We’ve met before. Don’t you remember me?”

Cosette squinted, and as she finally put a place to his face, she gasped. It was the strange man she’d seen in Solaria’s palace, and she could once again feel the odd, almost electrical charge in the air between them.

 

* * *

 

“Tidal Wave!”

“Sonic Boom!”

“Techno Blast!”

“You hit Cosette in the back, you coward! Golden Pollen!”

Babet dodged all four blasts, snarling furiously. “What about you? Four against one, that’s hardly a fair fight!”

“ _You’re_ lecturing us about fairness?” Courfyerac growled. “Get back to Omega, asshat!”

“And send us some memorial snowcones!” Éponine added mockingly. “I’ll take raspberry.” She sent another blast of sound waves at Babet, forcing him to do a stupid kind of twirl on his ice-platform to avoid it.

 

* * *

 

 

“You don’t have to fear me, Cosette,” the man continued when she didn't say anything. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumours about Big Bad Félix Tholomyès, but I’m not so bad.” He touched his outstretched hand to her shoulder, and she felt an oddly cold warmth on her back as her injury closed up. “See? If I had any intention of duelling you, I would have left you injured. It’s important to play to an opponent’s weaknesses.”

“Y-you,” Cosette stuttered. “You’re F-Félix Tholomyès!”

“So you _have_ heard the rumours,” Tholomyès smirked, getting to his feet. “Well, you’ll find they’re quite inaccurate once you get to know me.”

Cosette glared up at him. “I know enough,” she spat. “You attacked Andros unprovoked, and you’re trying to destroy it. You’ve already ruined thousands of innocent lives. And that’s enough for me to know that I will do everything in my power to stop you, Tholomyès!”

A lazy smile spread across Tholomyès’ face, and he leaned unconcernedly against one of the arches. “If you knew my true story, I’m sure you wouldn’t feel that way,” he said pleasantly. “Once upon a time, I was powerful and respected, but things change. _You_ of all people should know what it’s like to have your powers and freedom robbed from you.”

“How did you know –?”

“Patron-Minette have told me _all_ about you,” he grinned, perhaps bluffing a little. _Hopefully_ bluffing a little. “Anyhow, now that I’m free, I’m going to retrieve what’s rightfully mine. You know, back in the day, I controlled a great deal of the Magic Dimension.”

“You didn’t control Domino,” Cosette hissed. “Queen Fantine would have never allied herself with you!”

It is here that I will briefly pause the story to talk about, ironically, interrupting things. There are times when interrupting something is a very smart move – such as interrupting a dinner party because you have discovered that the food is filled with deadly poison that will kill the guests as soon as they take a bite. However, there are times when interrupting something is about the worst thing you can do, and this, I’m sorry to say, was one of those times. Had Cosette not interrupted Tholomyès as she is about to, she would perhaps have saved herself a lot of grief later on. Unfortunately, she did interrupt him, and as a result we will never know how things would have played out otherwise.

“Aah, yes, Queen Fantine,” Tholomyès said thoughtfully. “Tell me, how is she doing? I haven't seen her since –”

“What?” Cosette interrupted recklessly. “Since the Ancestral Witches killed her? Since she died protecting her planet and her daughter? Since she died protecting _me?”_

Perhaps Tholomyès was shocked by this information. Perhaps he wasn’t. If he was, he certainly didn’t show it. “Well, Cosette,” he smiled. “You certainly are a little fountain of knowledge, aren’t you? And the daughter of Domino’s most famous Queen, too! You would make a wonderful ally in my quest to become the most powerful Warlock in the Magic Dimension.” Cosette glared at him in disbelieving silence, and he corrected himself. “If I wasn’t clear before, you are either with me or against me.”

“Put me down for against you,” Cosette growled. “Trust me when I say that my answer won’t change.”

Tholomyès simply raised an eyebrow in response. “I’d rethink that if I were you,” he said, apparently calm, but Cosette could sense that he was displeased. “I don’t like hurting others, but I _will_ do what needs to be done.”

 

* * *

 

Outnumbered four to one, and with his cousins defeated by what amounted to magic chewing gum, Babet hurriedly cartwheeled away from first Courfeyrac’s and then Éponine’s attack spells, sending a blast of tiny ice-daggers back at them. Courfeyrac easily flew out of the way, but one grazed Éponine’s left cheek, leaving a scarlet line that began slowly oozing sticky red droplets. The wind blew Éponine’s fringe away from her face, and Babet felt unusually startled at the sight of her heterochromatic eyes – the left one dark brown, and the right one a vivid, luminous yellow. He was especially unnerved at the rage glowing in both of them at that moment, as Éponine shouted, “Amis! Convergence!”

He had no time to react; the ball of white light hit the ice just in front of his feet, shattering his platform into a million tiny shards and sending him flying with an undignified screech. He landed in the water, cursing furiously, and began the long swim back to land, already planning a furious diatribe towards his cousins blaming them for forgetting that now that the Gloomixes were gone, the Amis were technically at a higher power level than Patron-Minette.

 

* * *

 

Jehan took charge of the group as soon as the convergence spell was complete. “We need to split up in different directions and find Cosette,” they said urgently. “She could be seriously injured. We might even need to go swimming to find her.”

Courfeyrac and Éponine both nodded, but Musichetta shook her head hurriedly, pointing at something a little way out from the shores of the Omega Island: a stone circle with stone arches around the edges, sitting on the surface of the water. The waves were surprisingly calm around it, and in the centre, a blonde girl dressed all in blue was sitting on the floor. “We won’t need to go swimming,” Musichetta said relievedly. “She’s sitting on that stone island – I think it’s been raised up from the Mermaids’ town.” She frowned at the little island, having noticed someone else next to Cosette. “Who’s that down there with her?”

Courfeyrac squinted down at the person leaning against one of the arches next to Cosette. “I think it’s a man,” he said worriedly. “He’s quite tall and broad-shouldered, with blond hair – and he’s wearing a wine-red tailcoat.”

Musichetta’s eyes widened in horror as she recognised the description, and she speed-dived towards the island with a furious war cry. “Tholomyès! GET AWAY FROM HER!”

Jehan, Éponine and Courfeyrac all followed her as fast as they could the second they realised why she’d gone, raising their hands in preparation to attack. All four Faeries blasted beams of coloured light at the Warlock, who ducked out of the way, unconcerned. Cosette ignored him, turning to beam up at her friends in relief. As soon as the four Faeries in the air were forced to take a break from blasting at him, Tholomyès dusted off his shoulders, seemingly amused.

“Les Amis,” he chuckled. “Patron-Minette has told me so much about you.” Musichetta fired two curses at him, one from each hand, but he stepped out of the way as though merely avoiding a puddle on a pavement. He continued to look unperturbed, even as Cosette’s hands filled with fire, ready for her to throw at him from close range. “I’d love to stay and play,” Tholomyès hummed, “but I’ve got work to do.”

“I don’t like hurting people either,” Cosette said evenly, contrasting from her clenched fists and tense shoulders. “Stop your attack on Andros, turn the Mermaids back to normal, and we’ll let you live out the rest of your sorry days in the Omega Dimension – unharmed.”

Tholomyès eyed her handfuls of fire with the tiniest smidgeon of apprehension. “You’re threatening me,” he laughed. “How cute!” His eyes sparkled with mirth, but there was a hint of something more dangerous there too, and he paced around her like a wolf circling its prey. “I gave you a chance, Cosette. You turned me down, which means that we’ll have to be enemies, and I’ll have to destroy you – but not today. I’ll kill you when the time is right.”

Cosette released the fire from her right hand, which spun towards him. Her aim was perfect, but unfortunately Tholomyès’ reaction time was quicker, and he merely raised his left hand, catching the fire and snuffing it in his fist. Cosette’s second handful of flames snuffed itself out in shock. “I don’t have time for games right now,” he said, now sounding a little irked. “I have a planet to bring to its knees.”

A pair of heeled boots thumped down behind him, and he turned to see Musichetta, glaring at him with the fury of a million hurricanes. “Fight _me_ then,” she growled. “I am Princess Musichetta of Andros, and I am nowhere near as lenient as Cosette. Surrender, or die.” She raised her hands, preparing to summon the deadliest curse she could think of, but Tholomyès was once again quicker. Her challenge had seemingly flipped a switch inside of him, because rage was twisting across his face as quickly as a summer storm. His eyes suddenly glowed red, and black light crackled through the air, forming a circle around Musichetta.

“Princess of Andros,” he snarled, “prepare to suffer the same fate as your beloved planet! From now on, whenever your friends look into your eyes –” he dodged Musichetta’s curse before continuing – “they will be reminded of the price you paid when you were foolish enough to dare confront the mightiest Warlock in the Universe!” He raised his right hand. “In the name of Félix Tholomyès, may you be enwrapped by the Eternal Darkness!”

The light from the curse was so bright that Cosette, Éponine, Jehan and Courfeyrac were forced to shield their eyes. As a result, all they knew of the curse was that Musichetta screamed with pain as the spell hit her – and that afterwards, there was total silence. The light cleared, and they opened their eyes. Tholomyès was gone, having teleported away the second his spell was cast.

But Musichetta lay face down on the stone island, not moving.

“MUSICHETTA!” the Amis screamed. They immediately flew to her side, and Cosette gently turned her over. She wasn’t dead, thankfully; however, her eyes were screwed tight shut, and she was mouthing something over and over and over.

“Chetta, what did he do to you?” Cosette whispered.

“I can’t see,” Musichetta croaked. She raised her hands up to her face, shielding it from view, but Cosette caught a flicker of movement as she opened her eyes. The Princess of Andros gave a dry, horrified sob. “Cosette, I can’t see! He – he – he took my eyes!”

“What do you mean, ‘he took your eyes’?” Courfeyrac asked apprehensively, and Musichetta slowly lowered her hands from her face.

“I mean, he took my eyes!” she sobbed. Tears poured down her cheeks as she opened her eyes wide for them to see, and Jehan’s hands flew to their mouth in shock. Cosette gave a horrified gasp, Courfeyrac inhaled sharply, and Éponine uttered a soft scream.

Musichetta had always had lovely eyes: they were big and almond-shaped with long lashes, and she had warm dark brown irises and shining black pupils that always held an insatiable thirst for adventure mixed with endless bravery and determination. But that beauty was all gone now.

Musichetta’s pupils had vanished. And her irises were now a dull, milky white.

She was blind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My mother: *finishes beta-reading it*  
> Me: So, what do you think?  
> Mum: FIX HER!  
> Me: 3:)


	6. In Which Musichetta Does A Very Selfless Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Amis team up with a new ally following news of yet another attack by Félix Tholomyès, but they're forced to confront a monster that for once isn't the villain's lackey...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CHAPTER!!!  
> Also this is my last week of college! My graduation/grad ball/post-grad ball night out is on Sunday!! And I officially have an HNC in Practical Musical Theatre Studies!!  
> I hope you enjoy reading this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it!

“Why did I let them go to Andros without me?” Enjolras wailed. “What was I thinking?!”

It was 11pm, a whole day since his friends had left, and he found himself starting to panic. While it wasn’t unusual for a mission to take a few days, it was very unusual to have no contact at all from anyone involved. Things on Andros must be really bad. Enjolras paced up and down his room while the Piskies and Wolter watched him worriedly.

“You were thinking that they were strong and powerful enough to handle this on their own,” Simone reminded him. Enjolras continued pacing, now gnawing his lower lip.

“Then I’m crazy,” he groaned. “And what’s worse is that now I have six people to worry about. No contact from the Amis, no contact from my father. I’m confused and powerless to help them and I don’t know what to do!”

“Tutti,” Lise said quietly. She flew down to nestle into his hair. “Tutti-tutti.”

Enjolras stopped pacing and took a deep breath. “Thanks, Lise.” Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door, making him jump. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Javert,” came the reply. “Open the door.”

“What do I do?!” Enjolras whispered. The Piskies all shrugged, looking as worried as he felt, and Wolter hunched into a terrified loaf-shape.

“You all missed class today,” Javert continued. “While I understand that Faery Flu can be contagious, none of you reported to the Nurse’s office as is protocol.”

“Illusion spell,” Enjolras muttered. He clicked his fingers, and the Piskies once again transformed into his friends. As Roselyne was still away doing Dragon knew what, Wolter became Jehan, who was hunched into the foetal position on the floor. Enjolras hurried over to open the door, and Javert glared sternly at him.

“I demand to know what is going on at once.”

“Our immune systems are down, sir,” Enjolras coughed. “I think Jehan might have developed some Troll-pox on top of the Faery Flu. It’s super contagious, but luckily the recovery time is quite short. Goodnight!”

He shut the door before Javert could object, and waited until he heard his footsteps retreating down the hall to undo the illusion spell. “That was too close for comfort.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Don’t worry, Chetta,” Cosette said firmly. “We’ll find a way to break this curse.”

Musichetta shook her head, her blank white eyes expressionless and unnerving. “You saw what happened when we tried to break the curse on the Mermaids. I’ll be stuck like this for the rest of my life.”

“You won’t!” Jehan insisted. “We won’t stop searching until we’ve found a cure.”

“And if that cure doesn’t work,” Courfeyrac added, “we’ll keep searching until we find one that does.”

“Really?” Musichetta whispered. Cosette nodded, then remembered that Musichetta couldn’t see her. “Really.”

Éponine had only been half listening; her attention was fixed on the water next to the stone island where they were stood. “Heads up,” she said quietly. “We have company.”

Indeed, when the Amis looked around they saw how the surface of the water next to the island was starting to bubble as something approached the surface. Cosette, Éponine, Jehan and Courfeyrac all took up fighting positions surrounding Musichetta, but to their surprise, the head that broke the water wasn’t twisted or skeletal. It was plump and angelic, with dark skin surrounded by technicolour-red hair, amber eyes with long green lashes, and a deeply worried expression. She could only be about thirteen, and yet she held her hands up, showing she was unarmed. Cosette noticed the little bits of blue webbing between her fingers, as well as the blue fins that sprouted from her forearms.

“I mean you no harm,” she said. There was something desperate and afraid in her tone, but her voice was sweet and melodic, and it seemed to spark something in Musichetta.

“Your voice,” the Faery of Waves muttered, scooting nearer to the edge of the island. “I know you!” She reached out a hand, which the Mermaid obligingly took hold of, and a smile broke across Musichetta’s face. “Is that you, Cousin Laurel?”

The Mermaid smiled. “Yes, Cousin Musichetta.” Suddenly, she gasped in horror. “Chetta, your eyes!”

Musichetta nodded sadly. “Tholomyès blinded me. He used some sort of curse; I’ve never seen a curse that powerful before.”

Laurel’s eyes filled with tears. “Not you too,” she whispered. “Tholomyès has destroyed Andros Undersea using Black Magic. His curse has transformed all of my friends and most of my family into monsters. The city of Mermaids is in ruins, and my mother, Queen Océane, is his prisoner! You were my last hope; I fear all is lost now!”

Musichetta’s mouth took on a determined set. “Don’t give up, Laurel. I may be blind, but I’m still powerful enough to fight him.”

“And we’ll be right behind you,” Cosette added with a smile. “Who brought their swimsuits?”

“Who needs a swimsuit when you have wings?” Éponine laughed. Courfeyrac, however, was frowning.

“Laurel,” he started, “if you don’t mind me asking, how did you escape Tholomyès’ curse?”

Laurel looked ashamed. “I… swam away when he attacked. While everyone else was fighting to protect my mother, I hid in fear. I failed her, as a warrior, a subject, _and_ a daughter.” She refused to meet anyone’s eye, but Musichetta reached out and clumsily patted her head.

“It takes a lot of courage for a warrior to admit they were afraid,” she said. Jehan nodded in agreement.

“And if you hadn’t hidden, you wouldn’t be here and we wouldn’t be able to help you save your mother.”

“Lead the way,” Cosette said. Laurel nodded, wiping the tears out of her eyes, and swam a little way out, but Éponine coughed loudly, getting everyone’s attention.

“Um, guys? Air-breather over here. How do you expect us to breathe underwater without gills?”

Musichetta’s mouth formed a smile for the first time since she had been cursed. “Princess of Andros over here. Give me your hands, all of you.”

Jehan, Courfeyrac, Éponine and Cosette each reached out to touch her outstretched hands. Musichetta’s eyelids fluttered unconsciously as she focused her powers, and a second later, her friends’ bodies were glowing with pale pink light. “My Morphix magic will let you breathe underwater, and protect you from the cold.” The pink glow faded, but the Amis continued to hold each others’ hands, breaking apart only to form a line as first Cosette, then Musichetta, Jehan, Éponine and finally Courfeyrac entered the water.

It was too deep to stand, so all five Faeries treaded water and waited for Laurel to take the lead. The red-haired Mermaid Princess twisted around on the water and dove beneath the waves, and one by one the Amis sank down after her.

Cosette’s first thought was that the sea was far less unpleasant than she’d been expecting. Although the water had turned a dull, murky green, this seemed to be the cause of the large amount of dark magic present, and it hadn’t seemed to affect much of the sea life besides the Mermaids. The chain the Amis had formed was forced to break apart in order for them to swim fast enough to keep up with Laurel, but Cosette still held Musichetta’s hand as her guide, both of them using a one-handed front-stroke. Jehan was frog-stroking along next to them, while Éponine used a dolphin stroke and Courfeyrac simply kicked along. None of them could compare with Laurel, obviously; her tail, although silvery and scaly like a fish, swept up and down like a whale’s, and as the water became murkier, Cosette thought that there was something quite leviathan-like about the silvery flukes that swept up and down just ahead of her.

 

* * *

 

Enjolras continued to pace up and down the dorm, chewing his nails. His nerves were quite frankly wrought with stress at this point; no messages from his friends about the state of Andros, and he was sure Javert hadn’t bought his Troll-pox excuse. The knock at the door made him jump and whimper quietly, “What now?” but when he peered through the keyhole he was relieved to catch sight of a familiar pair of baggy patched jeans. “Nova!” he whispered, opening the door for her to enter. “What are you doing here?”

“I just got a text from my mum,” Nova whispered back, shutting the door behind her. “Apparently something really bad just went down on Solaria.”

Enjolras’ face turned as pale as it could go. “It’s my father, isn’t it?” he whimpered, twisting a finger into his golden curls and pulling nervously. But to his surprise, Nova shook her head.

“No… it’s about _you_.” She pulled her phone out of her pocket and opened it to the text. “Countess Giselle has made her son Lucas the new Crown Prince of Solaria.”

“WHAT!” Enjolras yelled, no longer bothering to keep his voice down. Nova shushed him hurriedly.

“Yeah. There have been protests – marches, sit-ins, even letters and petitions delivered to the King – but nothing doing. Apparently your father’s advisor spoke to the press – said that by our laws and by your birthright, you are the rightful Crown Prince of Solaria, and pointed out that Lucas is only seventeen, two years too young to be given that title. Countess Giselle had the advisor thrown in prison. Enjolras… our home has become a dictatorship.”

 

* * *

 

“There it is,” Laurel said at last. She stopped swimming and treaded water, her tail swishing underneath her. The Amis pulled to a stop too, and found that without the need for air, it was perfectly easy to tread water without rising to the surface or sinking. “The city of Mermaids – or, to give it its real name, Naknmsm Rseh.”

Ahead of them – about a mile, perhaps – dim lights blossomed out of the gloom. As the Amis’ eyes adjusted, they saw that the buildings seemed to be made of rock, and were all twisted into interesting shapes. The nearest building was also the largest, and its roof seemed to be made of pieces of broken shell, which glimmered even in the poor lighting. Halfway between them and the city was a wide, dark crack in the ground that stretched the entire length of the town – an undersea trench.

“Tholomyès is keeping my mother at the bottom of the trench behind the palace,” Laurel said. “I don’t know why he felt the need to, though. There’s no one left in the city.”

“It’s totally silent and devoid of activity,” Éponine agreed. “Sound travels faster and further underwater, but there’s absolutely no one there. It’s like a ghost town.”

“Rampaging monsters don’t bother with soft beds or home comforts,” Laurel said lightly, although there was an edge to her voice that suggested she wasn’t far from tears. “No one’s here any more.”

“Except them!” Jehan whisper-shrieked. The Amis turned to see five of the most monstrous Mer-monsters yet swimming towards them, with their fangs bared.

“Who is it?” Musichetta asked.

“Nothing good,” Cosette replied. She guided the blind girl’s hand to Laurel’s, not letting go until the two were securely holding onto each other. “Laurel, keep Chetta safe.” Laurel nodded, and guided Musichetta towards the trench. Cosette twisted around in the water, and she and the remaining Amis raised their fists as the Mer-monsters hissed threateningly at them. “Time to kick some Mer-butt.”

 

* * *

 

“Lucas is Solaria’s future ruler?” Enjolras muttered after Nova left. “Not on my watch! Countess Giselle has messed with the wrong Faery, and I’m done with sitting around hoping it’ll sort itself out!”

“You can’t go home, Enjolras!” Juliette hissed. “What if Javert notices that you’re missing? Everyone is scuppered!”

“He’ll have to catch me first,” Enjolras said thoughtfully. “Or,” he grinned, “should I say you?” He began pacing again, only this time, he was deep in thought. “I’ll just use a more lasting version of that Illusion spell. It should last for at least three days on its own. If I’m gone any longer than that, I’m probably in trouble, so being found out is worth the consequences.”

Abby cleared her throat. “There’s a bit of a problem there, though. Roselyne is back, giving us five Piskies, but you don’t want to use Wolter again. You’ll be found out in no time.”

“Good point,” Enjolras sighed, but suddenly a tiny snore from the direction of the couch caught his attention. A grin stretched across his face. “Wolter might no longer be an option, but we’ve got Lise.”

Manon frowned. “But she’s a baby! She could never pull off pretending to be a teenager!”

“She can totally pull it off,” Enjolras grinned. “Just as long as she keeps sleeping – which shouldn't be a problem; she loves sleeping. If he asks, tell Javert that Musichetta’s been hit with the worst case of Faery Flu combined with Troll-pox and just needs to sleep it off.” He snapped his fingers, and with a flash of golden light, Lise suddenly looked like Musichetta, curled up on the couch with her right thumb in her mouth. He snapped his fingers again, and once again Juliette, Manon and Abby looked like their respective bonded Faeries. A final snap, and Simone and Roselyne now looked like himself and Jehan. “I’ll be back in two days, tops. But first I need help packing.”

Julisette, Manonine, Abbyrac, Simonjolras, and Rosehan all followed him into his bedroom to help. Unfortunately, the second Rosehan closed the door, Lisechetta blinked awake on the couch. Finding herself suddenly flightless, but with the added bonus of now being big enough to slide off the couch without risking injury, she did what any toddler with a healthy sense of adventure and curiosity would do.

She slid off the couch, crawled over to the door into the corridor, pulled on the handle (which was now delightfully both within reach and moveable) and left the room to do some exploring.

 

* * *

 

 

The sound the lead Mer-monster made was indescribable; a sort of strangled, phlegmy growl that bared its fangs, and it charged forward, swiping a trident of some sort at them. Cosette and Jehan dodged the blow, and Jehan muttered, “Watch it!” under their breath.

The second Mer-monster attacked Éponine, who did a graceful underwater backflip away from it, kicking it in the face and disorienting it. “Care to dance?”

“I’m a fan of swing dancing myself,” Courfeyrac said through gritted teeth as he grabbed a spear away from the third Mer-monster and used its momentum to send it tumbling through the gloom away from the trench.

“Fire and water don’t mix,” Cosette added, “but I hope that this time they’ll make an exception!” She blasted three orbs of golden light from her hands, taking out Mer-monsters number 1, 4 and 5. “We’d better get down there fast. Something tells me those Mer-monsters will be wanting revenge.”

Indeed, Mer-monster number 3 had returned, and was barrelling towards them at a terrifying speed. Courfeyrac looked unconcerned, and blasted it with green light, knocking it to the sea floor instantly. “Yeah, they seem a bit territorial.”

 

* * *

 

Following the unfortunate discovery that their replacement Musichetta was missing, Enjolras led Julisette, Simonjolras, Rosehan, Manonine and Abbyrac under the pink awning above the outside doors to the classrooms to look for her, praying that the darkness of twilight would prevent anyone from noticing that there were two Enjolrases (Enjolri? Enjolras’?) running around together.

“Lise!” Simonjolras called worriedly. “Where are you?” His (her?) voice was still ridiculously squeaky.

“If you were a baby, where would you go?” Manonine asked.

“I don’t know,” Julisette pondered. “My crib? Lise, where are y–?” She was interrupted by a hand clamping over her mouth.

“I admit it was a bad idea,” Enjolras hissed, “but you have to keep it down unless you want to wake the whole school!”

“How does one shout quietly?” Abbyrac said in frustration, but suddenly a sound behind them made everyone’s blood run cold.

The sound was this: a very stern and very familiar “Hem- _hem_.” The group turned around to see Musichetta on her knees with her thumb in her mouth at the feet of Professor Javert, who looked very, _very_ cross.

“Miss Musichetta has taken leave of her senses,” he began angrily. “And apparently so have I. Mr Enjolras, are you well aware that there are two of you?”

“Yes, professor,” Enjolras said sheepishly. Javert clicked his fingers, effectively undoing the Illusion spell, and one by one Lise, Juliette, Simone, Manon, Abby, and finally Roselyne resumed their true forms. Roselyne winced at the look on Javert’s face.

“We’re in big trouble.”

 

* * *

 

The trench was dark. Very dark. So dark that even when Cosette cast a Fiery Glow spell on her own body, they still couldn’t see the bottom. “How much further?”

Laurel looked worried. “The legend of the trench says that there is no bottom. Which makes it the perfect hiding place.”

“Seriously?” Éponine said. “Not gonna lie, that freaks me out a bit.”

“Me too,” Laurel sighed. “Come on. We have to keep going.” She squeezed Musichetta’s fingers and felt her cousin squeeze back, and they continued to swim. None of them noticed the crack in the cliff wall – and, very unfortunately for what happened next, none of them noticed the ancient yellow eyes slide open and fix their eerie gaze on the Faeries’ backs.

As they continued downwards, some stiff orange tendrils came into view, protruding from the rock. Jehan was the first to recognise it, and gave a sharp shout. “Sharp coral, dead ahead!”

As if it had heard their shout, the coral tendrils seemed to flinch in the water. Courfeyrac frowned. “Studies show that coral is mainly made of Calcium Carbonate, but it’s considered a living creature. But this coral looks a little more ‘living’ than usual.”

Once again, the coral reacted as though it had heard him, only this time the reaction was far more noticeable. The second they passed the coral, it began growing, sliding out of the rock towards them – practically grasping at their feet. There were more tendrils below, which began stretching up to meet them, and Cosette hurriedly blasted them with fire, hoping to force the polyps to retreat. She was lucky; her shot blasted a hole big enough to swim through, and they sped up, hoping the coral wouldn’t follow them. It didn’t, thankfully, but now a black hole full of sharp teeth was looming up at them threateningly, ready to swallow them whole! It was surrounded by the same greenish rock that made up the cave wall, and below it was… sand.

A sandy floor, decorated with long dropped and since abandoned weapons and shields.

They had reached the bottom.

The mouth was a cave, and the teeth were stalactites and stalagmites. Thankful that there was no sea monster waiting to gobble them up, the Amis landed on the ocean floor and let themselves breath. Laurel, however, was distracted by something that shone silver amongst the rusted swords and shields. She swam over to pick it up, and when she turned back, tears were pouring down her face. It was odd to see someone crying underwater; the tears rolled down her cheekbones, but vanished into the ocean the second they dripped off her chin. But what was the oddest thing, was that she was smiling.

“It’s my mother’s crown!” she whispered. “She _is_ down here!”

“That’s great!” Jehan smiled. “Do you think she’s imprisoned in that cave?”

Laurel turned and gazed up at the cave that had looked so much like a mouth. Her smile vanished in an instant. “I hope not,” she said quietly. “That’s the layer of the Kraken.”

Courfeyrac paled. “But the Kraken is a myth!”

“Try telling that to those who fell into its grasp,” Laurel shuddered. “The Kraken is said to be stronger than any warrior, faster than any whale, and more malevolent and heartless than the Phoenix himself. It is a beast of ancient power, and now Tholomyès is using it to imprison my mother!”

“I don’t like to say it,” Éponine shuddered, “but looks like we have to go in. There’s nowhere else to go down here.”

Cosette took the lead, walking along the cave floor and lighting the way with her Fiery Glow spell, and the Amis followed, Jehan guiding Musichetta while Laurel swam above them.

“What does a Kraken look like?” Jehan asked curiously. Laurel shrugged.

“No one knows for sure. No one’s ever survived once it decided it wanted to kill you.”

Laurel had grown up her whole life only hearing stories of the dangers of messing with the Kraken; by the time she was born, Merfolk and landfolk alike had given up on ever trying to find or capture or kill the beast. Indeed, it had been at least three generations since the last report of a warrior leaving to hunt the Kraken and never returning. However, Laurel was about to become the first Mermaid in living memory to learn what a Kraken looks like.

The cave stretched into the cliff for miles, but once you were down the initial slope that led up to the stalagmites at the entrance, it had a very flat floor. The good thing about a flat floor is that you are more likely to see something sticking out of it. The bad thing is that you are less likely to see a hole up ahead, even if the hole is quite big. And in this case, the bad thing went from being a Bad Thing to being The Worst Possible Thing That Could Have Happened Given The Circumstances.

Something that could only be the Kraken was rising up into the tunnel through a hole in the floor. It looked like a cross between an octopus and a squid, with a massive bulbous head that had two large, yellow, slit-pupilled eyes on the sides. Beneath the head was an equally bulbous body out of which protruded eight arms and two tentacles, and at the centre of the ring of arms was a gaping round mouth filled with whirring teeth.

“I think we just found out what a Kraken looks like,” Courfeyrac said quietly.

The second its tentacles were clear of the hole, the Kraken tilted itself so the mouth full of whirring teeth was pointed right at the Amis. It pulled its tentacles back, clearly preparing to pulse towards them, and Cosette reacted quickly.

“RUN FOR IT!”

The five Faeries and the Mermaid turned and headed back down the tunnel as fast as they could. To their surprise, the Kraken didn’t chase them. To their horror, it didn’t need to.

Even holding Jehan’s hand and being pulled along by them, Musichetta was far slower than the rest of the group, and the Kraken merely reached out its two tentacles and wrapped the suckers around her middle, pulling her away from Jehan.

“CHETTA!”

“IT’S GOT ME!”

Its prey captured, the Kraken didn’t bother reaching for any more Faeries or Mermaids; it pulsed its body and zoomed off around a bend. Cosette immediately turned around and began swimming after the Kraken. Walking along the bottom had been the smart thing when they didn’t know what was up ahead, but now that they’d seen what they were facing, speed was of the essence. Éponine, Jehan and Courfeyrac all swum after her too, as did Laurel, who caught up with her easily in spite of Cosette’s head start.

They swam and swam down the tunnel, following the sound of Musichetta’s terrified screams, and soon they came to a part of the cave where circular cells were cut into the walls, with rusted bars over the entrances. Most of the cells were filled with gems and glittering coins – perhaps sparkly things the Kraken had taken a fancy to, like a corvid? – but every so often there was a cell that was empty except for horribly human-looking bones. The Faeries forced themselves to swim past this rather horrible sight, but Laurel couldn’t look away – and it was a good thing she didn’t, because otherwise she might not have spotted the occupant of the final cell.

“NSNNH! Mes Amis – it’s my mother!”

The Amis paused and turned around at the same moment Queen Océane looked up. She was beautiful, with smooth dark skin that had patches of greenish scales here and there, long bluish hair and eyelashes, and a glittering green tail with long yellow fins. “Laurel?” she whispered. She sounded exhausted, and her face looked positively emaciated. Lying next to her was a golden sceptre with an orange gem at the top, and its glow lit the dim cell, and made shadows on her face.

“S'n saka, Nsnnh. Mss'e askkh,” Laurel whispered. Her mother smiled, and swam towards the door.

“Nh eamsesise, ekmna mmsdseak. S'n is demm hss'ka imia,” Queen Océane whispered back. She pressed her hand up to a gap in the bars, and Laurel pressed her own hand back. The Amis found themselves quite choked up at the reunion, but the sound of Musichetta’s screams echoing back to them reminded them that they had no time to stop.

“Laurel,” Cosette whispered. “Free your mother and get her to the surface. We’re going to kick some octopus butt.”

Laurel nodded, and the Amis turned and continued swimming after the Kraken. Laurel squeezed her mother’s hand through the bars.

“Musichetta and her friends are the brave ones,” she whispered shamefully. “Mummy, I left and hid while everyone else fought to protect you. I was a coward. But I’m not leaving you this time.” She reached for the jagged cutlass she kept secured in a scabbard attached to her belt. “Move away from the bars!” As soon as her mother had moved to the back of the cell, Laurel swung the cutlass at the six rusted metal bars. It clanged off them, and she swung again. Another clang. Third time lucky – the bar she hit this time was old, and it crumbled easily. The bar broke at the top just as easily, as did the other four she had yet to hit. As for the final bar, when she swung at it one last time, it seemed her previous hits had weakened it, for it snapped away. “I did it,” she whispered in relief.

“Of course you did, my love,” Queen Océane smiled. She swam for the exit, delighting in the fresher flow of water outside the cell. “After all this time… I’m free!” She pulled Laurel into a loving embrace. Laurel hugged her back tightly, and when she pulled away, the younger Mermaid reached for the silver crown she’d tucked into her belt.

“I believe this belongs to you, my queen.”

Queen Océane took the crown with a smile, and carefully positioned it amid her bluish locks. “Thank you, Princess.”

Laurel smiled happily, before raising her cutlass again. “You need to get to safety. The tunnel leads back to the trench. I have some unfinished business to take care of.”

 

* * *

 

 

The screams stopped, and the Amis nearly froze with fear. But a second later they started up again, sounding closer and now a lot less scared. It seemed Musichetta had used up all her fear and had replaced it with anger.

“Suckers off the merchandise, you overgrown piece of calamari! Let me go, NOW!”

Yeah, not terrified, just furious.

They rounded the corner just in time to see Musichetta make a lucky shot and blast a jet of pink light right into the Kraken’s mouth. The Kraken squirmed in anger, but still refused to release her.

“Looks like someone can’t let go,” Éponine muttered.

“Big surprise,” Courfeyrac said sarcastically. “A Kraken with attachment issues.”

“Hold your fire,” Cosette muttered. “We need to catch it off-guard.”

A yell from behind them made them all jump. “IS THIS OFF-GUARD ENOUGH?” Laurel screeched. She zoomed around the bend, waving her cutlass, and slashed both of the Kraken’s tentacles off. As the suckers holding Musichetta came loose and floated to the ocean floor, the Princess of Andros looked very confused.

“What happened? What happened to the Kraken?”

Cosette swam up and grabbed her hand, beginning to pull her back along the corridor as the Kraken’s arms writhed in shock, and dark-hued blood poured from the stubs where the tentacles had been severed off. “The Kraken is fish-food now, Chetta,” she assured her friend.

“Two fins up, Laurel,” Courfeyrac added with a grin. Éponine groaned fondly.

“That wasn’t funny, man. Step up your game.”

“I honestly don’t know what we would have done without you, Laurel,” Cosette added.

Laurel rolled her shoulders back the way she imagined a victorious warrior might. “You helped me. It’s a warrior’s duty to return a favour.”

Cosette smiled back. “Lead the way out, Warrior.”

Laurel draped Musichetta’s arm around her shoulders, and led the way back down the tunnel. The Amis hurriedly followed, leaving the writhing Kraken behind them.

Here’s the problem with Krakens that most people don’t know – and it’s usually this lack of knowledge that will get you killed. Krakens, although very different to most cephalopods, share the trait of being able to grow an arm or tentacle back when it is cut or torn off. But unlike most cephalopods, this regeneration happens very quickly – as in it takes about two minutes after the limb is severed. This is why most people who try to fight Krakens end up getting killed – they think the beast is dead or dying as it writhes in the water, when really it is just waiting for its tentacle to grow back. This Kraken’s tentacle wounds healed over almost the second the Amis were around the corner, and a second later, little stubby tentacles began pushing through the scabs…

 

* * *

 

 

Queen Océane was waiting for them at the cave entrance, and smiled happily upon seeing her niece exit with her daughter. Her smile vanished the second she got a closer look, though. “Dear Musichetta,” she whispered. “Your eyes!”

Musichetta sighed, making several little bubbles appear in the water. “I fought Tholomyès. He cursed me to be enwrapped by the eternal darkness.”

Queen Océane’s ocean green eyes narrowed. “I have a magic that is far more powerful than his,” she said quietly, and held up her sceptre. The orange gem glittered comfortingly, although of course Musichetta didn’t see any of this. “The coral gem in my sceptre has healing powers. It must gather the last rays of sunset and reflect them into your eyes, but it will heal anything – even a curse like Tholomyès’.”

Musichetta gasped in wonder. “You’d do that for me?”

“Of course,” Océane replied. “You deserve to enjoy all of the world’s beauty.” She frowned. “But we need to get you to the surface quickly. The coral gem won’t work without the last rays.”

“Then let’s head up to the surface quickly,” Laurel said. She shifted her arm around Musichetta’s waist to hold on to her more securely. “The sun will be going down soon.”

 

* * *

 

 

As the Amis swum towards the exit of the caves – rather slower than Laurel and Musichetta – Éponine suddenly froze in the water. “Something’s swimming up behind us!” she shouted. “It’s pulsing through the water… I think the Kraken is back!”

Cosette, Courfeyrac and Jehan all turned fearfully, and indeed, the Kraken was turning the corner and looming towards them, with a look of fury in its yellow eyes. All four Faeries immediately blasted light at it, forcing it back but not able to cause any harm. Courfeyrac was forced to dodge away from a swiping tentacle, and in his distraction, he accidentally aimed his beam of green light at the roof of the tunnel, which suddenly shook, depositing several small lumps of rock on their heads.

“We can’t hurt the Kraken,” he said thoughtfully, “but we _can_ destroy its cave.” As the Kraken reared back to prepare for another attack, he shouted, “GUYS! BRING DOWN THE ROOF!”

His own green light, Jehan’s yellow light, and Cosette’s orange flames all made the roof shake, but it was Éponine’s sound waves that really did the trick. As a large chunk of the roof between them and the Kraken came loose and fell to the floor, Cosette whooped.

“I think it got the message! Let’s go!”

Unfortunately, it seemed the area of tunnel roof they’d hit wasn’t the only bit of cave that was now worryingly unstable. As they swam away, a chunk of roof the size of a bedside lamp crashed to the floor next to them, and Jehan shuddered.

“OK, I like living dangerously, but this is pushing it!”

“Well, keep pushing it!” Courfeyrac replied firmly. “We’re almost out!”

Indeed, they were at the cave entrance, and it wasn’t a second after they swam out into the main trench before a rockslide buried most of the entrance from view. Laurel and Queen Océane, waiting at the cave entrance with Musichetta, both sighed in relief, and Laurel swam upwards to take the lead on the journey home.

 

* * *

 

 

Another rather unpleasant feature of cephalopods is that they are boneless and as a result can squeeze through any space, no matter how small. The Kraken as a result managed to wiggle its way through the gaps between fallen rocks and make it out of the cave. Its eyes fixed on its prey, which was swimming away towards the top of the trench, and it pulsed after it, intending to kill and consume as many of the party as it could. But it was within ten feet of them when something else caught its attention. The group all moved to the side suddenly, apparently making noises of disgust, and the Kraken watched in interest as what appeared to be a dead shark sank into view. Now, Krakens may be ruthless, but even they know that it’s easier to go for carrion than live prey – especially when the live prey is equipped with hands that shoot beams of stinging magic. And so the Kraken turned around to head after the far-easier target.

And here was where the Amis were very unlucky. As the Kraken turned around, one of its tentacles caught Queen Océane in the back. Now, if a cephalopod has tentacles, the suckers are usually equipped with either serrated teeth or spinning hooks in order to hold onto their prey. Krakens are unique amongst cephalopods in this respect, as while they do have spinning hooks, they are retractable. The Kraken will only unsheathe its hooks when it’s about to feed – which was why it hadn’t unsheathed them while holding Musichetta. But it had unsheathed them as it turned to swim after the dead shark, and thus it was a tentacle full of sharp spinning hooks that caught Queen Océane in the back.

The Amis all turned around upon hearing Queen Océane’s cry of pain, and upon seeing the blood that was rapidly turning the water purple, Jehan immediately took over guiding Musichetta, so that Laurel could rush to her mother’s side.

“Mummy!” Laurel sobbed. “Mummy! Don’t leave me!” She caught her mother in her arms, and the queen’s eyelashes fluttered.

“Thank you… for being… so… brave, darling,” Océane whispered. “I’m so… proud of… you.” She fell still in Laurel’s arms, barely breathing, and everyone knew that if she wasn’t dead yet, she would be soon.

“Mummy,” Laurel whispered. “Mummy, no! Come back to me!”

Musichetta frowned, her milky eyes glistening even in the gloom. “Aunt Océane’s sceptre has healing powers,” she said. “We can save her if we reach the surface before the sun sets.”

Cosette narrowed her eyes. “Then let’s take a shortcut!” Her body began to glow with energy, and scarlet light swirled around her, taking the form of a dragon. The dragon’s body looped around all of them, and with a roar, it sped towards the surface in record time. They broke the surface with an enormous splash, and the dragon vanished a second later, leaving them to tread water.

They were just in time – the sun was halfway sunk below the horizon, and Laurel passed her mother’s sceptre to Musichetta. “Hurry!” she urged her. “We don’t have much time!”

Musichetta nodded. “I know that the coral gem only has enough power for one healing spell, but I don’t care. If Aunt Océane survives, it will be worth giving up my chance to see again.” The coral gem glowed golden as the last few rays of the sinking sun hit it, and Musichetta focused the refracted light so that it bathed Queen Océane. The second the light touched her, the deep cuts on her back closed over, leaving no scars, and her eyes fluttered open.

Queen Océane was alive.

Both she and Laurel pulled Musichetta into a tight embrace. “Thank you, Princess of Andros,” Océane murmured.

“You saved her life at the cost of healing yourself,” Laurel added.

Musichetta raised her eyebrows. “Of course I did. Her life is worth far more than my sight.”

As the sun sank below the horizon, Cosette found it rather odd that the sky still seemed to be bright, but suddenly she felt a tug on her arm, and turned to see Jehan pointing up at the sky. She followed their finger, and her jaw dropped.

A ball of golden light was descending from the heavens towards Musichetta, who rose up out of the water without the help of her wings at all. The light touched her head, and from the point it hit, she began to change.

Her bright red hair was growing at an incredible speed, stopping at her ankles, and the front braided itself into four sections that met behind her head, held in place by an emerald clasp. A golden diadem swirled across her forehead, and her eyelids were now painted pale yellow, while her lips glowed pink. Pale yellow gloves that came up to her elbows appeared on her arms, and blue footless sandals wound their way from between her toes up to her calf, glittering with tiny pink pearls. Her green top and skirt had changed into a pale green tube top with pale pink ruffles that fell to the bottom of her ribs, and a soft pale green skirt with a golden hem and a loose belt that hung off her hips and glittered pink, yellow, blue and purple. A yellow choker appeared around her neck, and from it hung a tiny blue bottle set into a glittering green circle. But the biggest difference was her wings: her wingspan was now about six feet, and her wings were three-pronged, pale transparent pink that glittered purple, with tiny green gems that hung off the tips. The lowest prongs were the longest, and extended down to her ankles.

“What’s happening?” Courfeyrac murmured.

“She’s beautiful!” Jehan whispered.

Éponine’s eyes widened as she realised what had happened. “She’s reached her true Faery form,” she gasped. “She’s become an Enchantix!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: the Kraken is based off of seafaring legends surrounding giant tentacled monsters, but my version takes both the stuff from myths and some of my oddly specific knowledge of cephalopods. (I watch a lot of marine nature documentaries. Especially the ones involving deadly creatures)
> 
> Funner fact: Most sailors who believed they'd seen a Kraken had actually just seen a bunch of whales mating with each other. We have whale orgys to thank for sea-monster horror movies.


	7. In Which There Is An Invitation, A Detention, A Lesson, And An Offer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still blind, Musichetta returns to Musain with the Amis. Meanwhile, Tholomyès continues his plot to conquer all the worlds of the Magic Dimension - and raises the stakes when he discovers a new ally...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm officially a college graduate! And I got so drunk at my grad ball that I slipped over and knocked myself out, and woke up the next morning on my best friend's couch with a melted icepack on my head. (That is a very condensed version of events, but apparently it was very funny.)
> 
> New chapter!

Of the many planets in the Magic Dimension, there was one that fitted the description of ‘ideal vacation’ more than any other: Resortia. We paid a visit to it with the Amis back in their second year, but now we visit it once more. Resortia is mainly composed of two realms: an enormous city that becomes a ski resort further out near the mountains, and a lush forest next to a beautiful blue ocean with beaches along its edges. Those who visit Resortia will find themselves unable to access their magic; most people believe it is magic-free, but those who live there know better – it just works slightly differently there to elsewhere, and those who understand it can use it quite easily. The buildings of the main town would not be out of place in Beijing on Earth; the fashion varied between comfortable robes and garb typical of holidaymakers. As an airbus landed and several new visitors to the planet disembarked, two bellboys in red robes hurried to meet them with easy smiles on their faces.

“Welcome to Esperro: the perfect city for the perfect vacation,” one of them began. The tourists all looked around eagerly, at first at the beautiful buildings, and then at the chest-height barrier along the edge of the cliff down into the green forest, with a sparkling waterfall throwing rainbows into the air in the distance.

“It’s beautiful,” one lady sighed, and she was quite right – at that moment. However, it was barely five seconds later that something very, very unfortunate arrived on Resortia, and everyone looked up in shock.

“It’s clouding over,” one of the tourists frowned. “The forecast said perfect skies!”

“Impossible!” gasped one of the bellboys in shock. “There are never clouds here!”

A wicked cackle echoed through the air, and in the midst of the storm, a boy with purple hair appeared, dressed in a green jumpsuit with darker green boots. Behind him appeared a white-haired boy with a blue jumpsuit, dark blue boots and a dark blue cape, and a girl with long brown hair, wearing a black and purple strapless dress and black boots. They swooped through the air, grinning down at the beautiful city, and landed in front of the bellboys as green lightening began to crash around them. This was worrying enough, but suddenly the air warped and turned black in front of them, and from it stepped a tall, pale man wearing a purple three-piece suit with riding boots and a wine-red overcoat. As the blackness vanished from the air, he stepped forward with a smirk on his face.

“Who… who are you?” one of the tourists whispered in terror.

“My name is Félix Tholomyès,” the man smiled. There was something disturbing about his smile, but no one could quite place what it was. The white-haired boy in blue poked his head over Tholomyès’ shoulder.

“But you can call him ‘Master’,” he purred.

The tourists and bellboys all whimpered, backing away, but Tholomyès didn’t pay them any further attention, striding past them with his (friends? Lackeys? …Lovers?) following him. As soon as they were about twenty feet away, they took off towards the main part of the city, flying until they were out of sight.

The lightning stopped, but the clouds remained.

 

* * *

 

 

The morning began at Musain the same as nearly any other morning: with students walking across the courtyard to class, worrying that they hadn’t finished their homework. However, this morning held a surprise for everyone: As the clock hit 8:59, a beautiful pale pink light filled the courtyard, and four familiar Faeries fell out of the air: Cosette, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine. The fifth Faery, however, came as something of a surprise. She looked almost like a Fairy Princess from a children’s book, and her wings were bigger than any the students had seen before. Her eyes were tight shut, refusing to look at anyone, and perhaps it was because of this unfamiliar behaviour that it took a moment before anyone realised it was Princess Musichetta.

Cosette got to her feet and brushed off her skirt. “We made it back alive!” she cheered.

A sharp cough came from behind her, and she, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine turned sheepishly towards the source.

“But we won’t be for long,” Courfeyrac groaned.

“Indeed,” Professor Javert said coldly. “You five have some explaining to do about your unauthorised absence.”

All four Faeries immediately looked very sorrowful. “I know, Professor,” Éponine said quietly, “but first, Musichetta needs help.”

For the first time since arriving, Musichetta opened her eyes, and everyone gasped in shock at the milky blankness, even Javert.

 

* * *

 

 

When Enjolras got his first call to the Headmaster’s office of the year, he was very worried about what he might find there, and ran through the corridors as quickly as he could. Had horrible news arrive from Andros? Were his friends injured? Or worse? But as he knocked on the door, he was surprised that Myriel’s “Come in,” sounded perfectly normal.

To his relief, all of his friends were standing in the office, along with Professors Javert and Myriel. Musichetta looked rather different, though – the more he looked at her, the more he wondered if he was hallucinating, because her wings had definitely not been that big before, nor had her hair been so long. And her eyes had definitely not been white!

“Aah, Enjolras,” Myriel said calmly, as though welcoming him to a tea party, and not the oddest office situation he’d ever seen. “You’re just in time to see some very powerful magic at work.”

“If I may, Headmaster,” Enjolras said shakily, “what happened to Musichetta?”

“Something really terrible,” Myriel sighed, leaning in to examine the girl’s eyes. For some reason, she didn’t lean back or blink, or react at all as he peered into her eyes. “And yet,” he continued thoughtfully, “something truly wonderful.” He turned towards the Amis. “Musichetta has been blinded by Félix Tholomyès’ evil magic – but she has also achieved her true Faery form. She is now an Enchantix.” He turned to the blind girl, who continued to stare unblinkingly, unseeingly ahead. “Tholomyès’ magic is powerful, but you are now strong enough to break it, Musichetta. You now have access to the power of Faery Dust: it is a magical substance kept in the bottle around your neck.” He took her wrist, and guided her hand towards the dainty blue bottle in its circular green guard. Musichetta took the bottle, and it unclipped easily. “Uncork it, and you will know what to do.”

Musichetta frowned a little, closing her eyes, and all of a sudden, the tiny pink cork popped out of the bottle. She turned the bottle as though pouring it into her hand, and to the Amis’ amazement, glittering silver powder sprinkled into her hand. She closed her eyes and lifted her hand above her face, allowing the powder to trickle onto her eyelids. The powder vanished the second it touched them, and when it was all gone, she opened her eyes again, and began blinking very, very rapidly as she adjusted to the light – for the powder had somehow, amazingly, magically, turned her eyes brown again!

Musichetta had cured her own blindness.

“I can see,” she whispered, and then louder, “I can see!”

Her Enchantix form vanished, and Éponine was the first to rush to hug her, with the rest of the Amis following instantly.

“The Faery Dust can break most dark spells,” Myriel smiled. He glanced over his shoulder to smirk knowingly at Javert, who had removed his monocle to dab a teary eye, but tried to look as though he was just cleaning it. “As I said, it’s one of the new powers you have as an Enchantix.”

“That’s amazing!” Enjolras beamed, and the rest of the Amis nodded in agreement. Meanwhile, Javert was screwing his monocle back into place, and as soon as it was fixed, he cleared his throat sternly.

“If you’re all quite finished,” he said stiffly, and the Amis broke sheepishly apart. “I hate to spoil this lovely moment, but there is still the matter of disciplinary action. As punishment for leaving school grounds overnight and skipping classes without permission, not to mention having Mr Enjolras and the Piskies try to deceive me by impersonating you, you will each be assigned to work in the Restricted Section of the library after dinner until midnight, re-categorising the entire collection of works for Miss Zephine – without using magic, of course. The detentions will last until all the books are neatly shelved, is that clear?”

“Yes, Professor Javert,” the Amis groaned. As they left, Éponine smirked at Enjolras.

“Nice going.”

“I did my best,” Enjolras groaned. “Things just… got out of hand.”

“Oh, you think, Enj?”

Enjolras sighed, staring at the ground. It hadn’t been his fault that his home had been transformed into a dictatorship!

…Had it?

 

* * *

 

 

The Amis made it to their morning classes (being a little late for Philosophy, but getting away with a pass from Myriel) and were leaving Technical Charms to go to lunch when Musichetta suddenly stopped and nudged Cosette.

“Cosette, I think you’ve got a visitor!”

“Huh?” Cosette looked around the courtyard in confusion, and eventually her eyes alighted on a familiar freckled face surrounded by messy red hair. “MARIUS!” She hurried over to where her boyfriend was leaning against his hoverbike, and he pulled her into a tight hug in greeting. “What are you doing here?”

Marius grinned. “I was just heading back to Corinthe from a field trip when I decided I just really wanted to see you.” Cosette blushed delightedly, and he took her hand with a laugh. “I heard you guys saw some crazy action on Andros.”

“We really did,” Cosette sighed with a smile. “Honestly, I’m surprised we all made it out of there alive.”

A flicker of worry passed across Marius’ face, but he didn’t comment. “I wanted to make sure you were OK –”

“I am.”

“– and I wanted to ask you something.” Marius looked a little nervous all of a sudden, and Cosette was intrigued.

“Huh? Of course, what do you want to ask me, Marius?” She smiled eagerly, not letting her face betray the nervousness and excitement bubbling in her chest.

“Well…” Marius smiled, “as you know, I’m the Prince of Eraklyon, and this weekend is Eraklyon’s 1000th anniversary of being an official kingdom, and there’s going to be a massive party that the entire kingdom is invited to, and… I want to ask you if you’ll come to the party as my girlfriend so I can introduce you to… well, everyone.”

“Everyone?” Cosette gasped. She suddenly felt very, very nervous. “‘Everyone’ is a lot of people.”

Marius looked a little embarrassed. “Yeah, and I want them all to meet the girl I want to marry and know how important she is to me. That is, if it’s OK with you –”

Cosette’s brain stopped working at ‘the girl I want to marry’, but only briefly, and she immediately pulled Marius into a kiss. “Of course I’ll be there!”

“Really?!” Marius looked like a puppy that has just been told it’s going for a walk. “Really, really?”

“Of course, really,” Cosette grinned. “Nothing will stop me from being there with you.” Suddenly, she frowned. “Except… I have detention until the library is re-categorised. But I’m sure I can finish that before your party. She smiled dopily, feeling like she was floating on Cloud Nine. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

 

* * *

 

 

Deep below Andros, Félix Tholomyès gazed into his viewing portal at Cosette’s excited face, while behind him, Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer examined the glowing scrolls they had taken from Resortia.

“So, these are the ancient codes of Resortia?” Babet drawled. “I must admit, they’re less impressive than I expected. And you’d have thought they would have found a safer place to store the magic knowledge of an entire world.”

Tholomyès didn’t react at all, but Claquesous did. “You’re talking to yourself, Babet,” she hummed, sprawling against a rock formation. “he’s obviously not listening.”

“Well, he’s gonna,” Babet growled. “Haughty silence doesn’t work for me.” Claqueosous smirked as her cousin stormed around to stand between Tholomyès and his viewing portal. “Hey, what’s up with you?” he snarled. “We just made off with all of Resortia’s magic knowledge! Add that to what you already took from Solaria and Andros, and we’re on a roll! But instead of being happy, instead of being excited, instead of being grateful to me and my cousins –” his voice rose shrilly, “you just stare and stare and stare –” he turned to glared at the image of Cosette’s face – “at _her!_ Come on! What’s so crazy-interesting about _Cosette?”_

Claquesous nudged Gueulemer. “God, I think Félix here has a bit of a crush on Cosette,” she gagged.

Tholomyès turned at that, with cold anger on his face. “I’m studying her,” he growled, continuing to ignore Babet, who looked enraged. “Cosette is not an enemy we want to underestimate. You three, of all people, should know that.” Claquesous and Gueulemer joined Babet in looking highly offended, but Tholomyès was already turning back to his viewing portal, now looking thoughtful. “We need to get rid of her before she causes any more trouble – and I believe that party on Eraklyon will be the perfect place to do it.” He grinned. “I just had a great idea. Tell me, what do you three know about Cosette’s boyfriend?”

 

* * *

 

When classes finished on Friday, most of the students decided to hang out in the courtyard. The sun was shining, and the ground was warm and comfortable, so many Faeries decided to either sunbathe or sit in the shade to read – but that week was apparently full of surprises, because no sooner had the last few students finished setting up blankets on the grass when an enormous crystalline dome flickered into appearance around the school. The air filled with noises of confusion (and a few noises of contentment from students lying on their fronts who now felt the focussed rays of sunlight even more), but soon Javert appeared outside to calm worries and announce that Headmaster Myriel wanted to see them all after dinner.

As soon as dinner was over, the students all began crowding into the amphitheatre, where Myriel was already waiting. Murmurs of what the dome could be filled the room, but when everyone was seated, Myriel stood and the room fell instantly silent.

“Thank you all for coming here so promptly,” he began. His normally serenely calm face was marred by a worried frown. “I have some news of great importance.”

It was a mark of how much his frown concerned his students that the room remained silent and did not fill with speculating mutters. The Faeries were all watching him concernedly, and he continued, “My dear Faeries, I have just learned that the evil Warlock Félix Tholomyès has launched a brutal attack against the peaceful world of Resortia.” His face pinched in pain. “Many are in critical condition from his attack, and there is… an unconfirmed body count.”

This time there was a vocal reaction: every Faery in the room gasped in horror, and then the worried mutters began to break out. Resortia was remembered throughout the Magic Dimension as the planet that had never gotten involved in any war ever. Many thought that to have attacked a planet that almost certainly stood no chance of fighting back was cowardly. Many others were filled with unease; if this Tholomyès fellow was willing to use brute force to attack a defenceless holiday resort, what was he willing to do to other planets that fought back?

“Everyone, please listen!” Myriel raised his voice, and the room once again fell silent. “All of Resortia’s most precious magical secrets – that no one understands but the citizens themselves – have been stolen by Tholomyès. This pattern of attack is of great concern to us, because it means…” he took a deep breath, “sooner or later, Musain will become a target. Our school is a repository of some of the most ancient Fae magic and knowledge, and with so many teenagers here, Tholomyès would easily be able to take advantage of us. That is why my colleagues and I have created a magical dome barrier around our school. For your safety, until Tholomyès is no longer a threat, no one is permitted to enter or leave the school without special authorisation from Professor Javert.”

The Amis all groaned internally at this last part; Javert was generally unwilling to authorise anything fun – and since they already had detention _for_ leaving school grounds without permission, their chances of leaving the school had just dropped from slim to non-existent.

Speaking of detention, their first session began right after the assembly was over, and Javert began the way he always did: by leading them to the location while neatly summarising the crime and why the punishment was fitting.

“Some of you sneaked off campus, and others lied about it,” he said as he led them through the library towards the golden gates that marked the books off limits to students without special permission. “All of you will have the chance to think about your actions while you organise the volumes of the Restricted Section –” he unlocked the gates with a nasty smirk, revealing an enormous pile of books on the floor taller than the doorway, “and you are not allowed to leave campus until everything is in perfect order. We thought we’d make things easier by pulling all the books off the shelves for you to sort through.” He walked smartly around them and smiled satisfactorily at the librarian, who was entering behind them. “They’re all yours, Miss Zephine.”

Miss Zephine walked around to stand in front of the pile. She was a tiny little woman who dressed only in white lace dresses with high collars, and had bright pink hair piled high on top of her head and a beauty mark on her right cheek. “Thank you, Professor Javert,” she smiled, before addressing the Amis. “The Restricted Section is very disorganised. These books think they own the place, so they can get themselves into quite a mess,” she chuckled, picking up a book wrapped in lilac silk and dusting it off. “Some of them are very bad tempered indeed.” She handed the book to Courfeyrac, who squinted at the cover.

“These are books full of Curses!” he gasped, before shrieking in terror. The book had opened of its own volition, and its pages had morphed into two rows of jagged teeth, which snapped at him. He dropped the book, and it calmly morphed back to having pages instead of teeth. Miss Zephine chuckled.

“I’d be very careful with them if I were you,” she smiled, before leaving them to it.

 

* * *

 

“Javert really came down hard on us this time,” Jehan groaned, two hours into it. “There are so many books – we’ll be here forever!” The Amis had decided to split the work into sections; Jehan’s job was to translate the titles of the books in ancient languages so that they would know what section to put them in.

“That’s not quite true,” Courfeyrac called down from atop a ladder, where he was shelving the section they’d deemed ‘curses too nasty to be taught in class but probably won’t kill someone’ by alphabetical order. “According to my calculations, if we keep working at this rate, we should be done in a week.”

“Fantastic,” Enjolras groaned, where he was skimming through the chapters of a heavy tome to decide whether it would go to Courfeyrac’s section, or a section filled with the really horrid stuff. “No way we’re going to that party on Eraklyon.”

Cosette nodded, looking distraught, and Musichetta wrapped an arm around her shoulders comfortingly, squeezing her in a side-hug before bringing another curse book over to Enjolras. “Come on, guys, we can’t give up. Saturday is Marius’ party, and I for one don’t intend on letting Cosette miss it.”

“But Saturday is _tomorrow_ ,” Enjolras pointed out. “It’s impossible to get this done without using magic.” He huffed his hair out of his face, but suddenly the corner of his mouth curled up in a thoughtful smirk. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” Éponine said warily.

“Unless it’s not _our_ magic that we use,” Enjolras said, his grin growing wider as an idea took shape in his head. He reached for a blue book with a drawing of what seemed to be a genie on the cover. “If the books were to use their _own_ magic, that wouldn’t be breaking Javert’s rules.”

Courfeyrac slid down the ladder seemingly only to raise an eyebrow at Enjolras in a way that didn’t risk yeeting himself backwards and breaking his shoulder. “That’s the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever heard. Failure is the most likely outcome.”

“More than just likely, it’s certain,” Éponine scowled, hefting a bundle of scrolls towards a shelf on the other side of the room. “Put that book down.”

“I’m just going to open it,” Enjolras said innocently. “That’s my job, isn’t it?” He opened the book at random, but suddenly pulled his hands away from the cover with a yelp, for the pages had glowed red, and a large eye and two clawed hands poked out of the cover.

“WHO DARES DISTURB MY REST?!” The hands, very disturbingly, had small mouths full of sharp teeth on the palms, and Enjolras hurriedly slammed the book shut.

“No one!” he squeaked. “No one at all!”

The book clearly wasn’t listening; it rose into the air and landed ten feet away from him with the pages open and up. To Enjolras’ – and the rest of the Amis’ – horror, the monster stepped out of the portal in the pages and towered above them. It had a round body that seemed to be mostly eyeball, and three hands with mouths on the palms that it stood on. Its fourth arm was much bigger, and protruded out of its skull like a ghastly antenna, and its entire body was a shade of sickly green.

“Nice one, Enj,” Éponine said, sounding rather nervous. “You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

Cosette took charge immediately. “Musichetta, make sure that no teachers, Piskies or students are headed this way.” Musichetta nodded, and headed out of the gates to check the library and set up a Morphix barrier. Meanwhile, Cosette turned to the rest of the Amis. “You know what to do, guys. Amis Charmix!”

The second they were transformed, the monster spat a globule of glowing spit at Cosette, and she hurriedly created a star-shaped golden shield. “Éponine, Courf! Protect the books! Everyone else, let’s go!”

Courfeyrac and Éponine clasped hands. “Convergence!” they chorused. “Digital Sound Barrier!” Swirls of green and magenta magic filled the air, and barriers made of digital music scores appeared around both the shelves and the pile of unsorted tomes in the middle of the room. Meanwhile, Cosette, Jehan and Enjolras were flying into the air, preparing to attack.

Cosette started off with a fire blast, which bounced off the barrier and hit the monster in the back. Enraged, it spat at them again, hitting Enjolras and knocking him back against the barrier, which luckily didn’t break – but unluckily, the impact dislodged some of the books onto the floor behind the barrier.

(“Great,” Éponine said. “I’d just finished that section.”)

“Let’s wrap this up,” Jehan quipped. “Magic Vines!” Vines instantly sprouted from the ground, wrapping around the monster’s body and squeezing it tight, so only the eye was visible. Cosette raised her hands, which were glowing with fire.

“Now, go back where you came from!” she yelled, releasing the blast. Upon feeling the flames, the vines squeezed the monster so tightly its body turned to mush, wrapped around the single confused looking eyeball. Enjolras acted quickly, immediately slamming the book closed around it.

“Gotcha!”

“Thank the Dragon that’s over,” Éponine sighed, but Cosette looked a little worried.

“I think something is only just beginning.”

 

* * *

 

The reader will, naturally, have heard of something called the ‘anti-vax’ movement. If you have not, I will explain it to you now, as it’s an important part of the metaphor I’m about to use. The ‘anti-vax’ movement is a group of people who are under the belief that the vaccinations for such horrible diseases as Polio and Measles and Tuberculosis will cause their children to develop autism. They are, of course, wrong, as many studies have proven, and are also prejudiced against autistic people – who are simply normal people whose minds work slightly differently to the visible majority. By refusing to vaccinate your child, you not only risk your beloved offspring dying from Scarlet Fever before their tenth birthday, you also risk them transmitting diseases to immuno-compromised people who rely on herd immunity to stay healthy because they can’t have a vaccine due to a naturally weak immune system.

This was exactly what happened when King Terredor of Andros refused to inform other planets about the threat from Tholomyès. In not wanting to appear foolish, he had denied the other worlds the chance to band together in an alliance against the Warlock, meaning some worlds (such as poor Resortia) were left with no chance at all to defend themselves from him. Even an un-warned army can put up a good fight, but if there is no army in the first place… you are most likely well and truly screwed.

Another problem with no one knowing about an unvaccinated disease is that your body might think it is friendly at first – and so might you, because you don’t know what it is capable of. The same holds true for most things; if you had never seen a lion before, you might think it is a huge, fluffy kitty waiting to be petted, and you would find out the hard way that a lion is quite capable of tearing you limb from limb. And such was the case with Félix Tholomyès and the rather unpleasant young lady he paid a visit to that evening, who had no idea what he was truly capable of and listened to what he had to say with an open and unpleasant mind. When he arrived, he had no idea of just how unpleasant she could be – but you, my dear readers, already know very well…

“I thought you were going out tonight, Lady Céleste,” the maid was saying. “Eraklyon is celebrating –”

“There’s nothing for me to celebrate!” Céleste snapped. She yanked the heavy silk curtain over the window, blocking out the view of the festival that was beginning in the streets of Iris. Her maid looked confused when Céleste turned towards her, but continued to hold up a frilly ball gown in various shades of pink. “And take that dress away! I don’t want to see it!” She yanked the dress away and flung it onto the ground, and the maid hurried to pick it up and smooth it out.

“But I thought you planned to wear it tomorrow night at the Millenium Party at the Royal Palace,” the maid frowned. She carefully adjusted the puffy sleeves where the fall had deflated them. “It’s the event of the season; you must attend.”

Céleste moodily threw herself into her armchair and crossed her arms. “My stupid ex-boyfriend is bringing his precious little girlfriend; I’m not going to watch them cooing over each other all night,” she snapped. “Now get out. Go! I want to be alone.”

The maid hung the dress against the wardrobe door and hurried out of the room, shutting the door behind her and leaving Céleste to brood. As soon as the door was closed, she got to her feet and stalked over to glare at the mirror.

“Marius thinks Cosette is prettier than me,” she pouted, completely disregarding the possibility and reality that Marius had found Cosette to be pleasanter to talk to and nicer to be around, and that they shared more compatible traits with each other than Céleste had shared with Marius.

“Utterly ridiculous, isn’t it?” a man said – a man in a purple suit and a wine-red overcoat who was standing behind her.

“Who are you?” Céleste yelped. “How did you get in here?!” To her shock, the man wasn’t standing behind her at all, but rather was actually _inside_ the mirror.

But not for long. He stepped forward and passed through the glass as though it was a doorway, smiling serenely at her. “Poor Céleste,” he hummed, flicking his blond hair out of his face. His rather hypnotically handsome face. Céleste shook the thought out of her head, backing away. There was an unfamiliar man in her room, and he had entered in an unbelievably creepy way. “Don’t be afraid,” he frowned. “I’m a friend.”

“Get out of my room now!” she spat. “Get out of here, or I’ll call the guards, peasant!”

“That would be a mistake,” the man said calmly, and Céleste froze in fury. Who was this man to tell her what she could and couldn’t do?! He smiled and came closer. “I can give you what you want,” he said quietly. “I can help you fulfil your wildest dreams. And I can help you get rid of Cosette – forever.”

Céleste continued frowning, but it was no longer in anger or fear. Now it looked curious, hungry, almost. “Go on…”

He held out his hand. “Look at… this.” With a flash of black light, a beautiful scarlet bottle with a heart-shaped cork appeared in his palm. A dull energy seemed to pulse from it, and Céleste’s jaw dropped, recognising the magical wavelength perfectly. She knew exactly what he was offering her.

And she was all too willing to accept it.

 

* * *

 

As they began clearing up after the monster’s attack, Jehan decided to turn the topic of conversation to a happier subject. “So, Cosette, tell us what Marius’ party is going to be like!”

Cosette shrugged. “All I can think about is how intimidating it’s going to be meeting all those people.” She looked a little worried. “I hope I don’t do something really dumb.”

“C’mon!” Enjolras said bracingly. “You and Marius will be side-by-side all night looking all regal and totally young Hollywood couple – did I get the name right?”

Cosette nodded with a smile, and Courfeyrac added, “If Enjolras is learning Earth facts to reassure you, it’s gotta be true.”

Cosette laughed at that, and Jehan continued with a sigh. “He’ll take you up to one of the Royal Palace balconies overlooking the courtyard… down below, the masses will be jockeying for a better view…”

“The press will be fighting for a front-page shot,” Éponine added dreamily. “All eyes will be on you!” To her surprise, Cosette suddenly looked pale and nervous.

“That doesn’t reassure me at all!” she wailed. “I won’t know what to do, I won’t know what to say, I bet I’m going to freeze up and all the pictures of me will be worse than that one that came out in _Solaria Today_ back in spring of Enjolras shoving an entire chocolate muffin into his mouth.”

Enjolras’ cheeks flushed red. “We swore we’d never talk about that,” he muttered. Musichetta ignored him and threw an arm over Cosette’s shoulders.

“Relax, Sette!” she said firmly. “You face way bigger, scarier things on a daily basis. You’ll get through this no problem!”

The blush had retreated from Enjolras’ face, and he nodded. “Yeah, and we’ll teach you all we know about being royalty in no time!” He paused. “OK, well, Chetta will have to do the curtsies because I still have no idea how you do that without tripping. But we’ll do it!”

“I hope so,” Cosette groaned. “Remember the last time I was on Eraklyon? I made a total fool of myself in the first five minutes!”

“Yeah,” Jehan nodded, “but then you saved Céleste and made the king instantly love you.” They slid a book onto a shelf, finishing the row with a smile. “You’ll be fine!”

And so Musichetta and Enjolras began incorporating Princess Training into the detention. First, both of them walked around the room balancing a pile of books perfectly on their heads and not dropping them once. Then they started Cosette off with just one book, but it lost its balance not even three steps around the room. Then Enjolras taught her how to greet royalty (“Your Majesty for a king or queen, your highness for a prince or princess, your grace for a duke or duchess, and my lord or my lady for anyone else with a title.”) and finally Musichetta taught her to curtsey – this all being between moving books to the correct sections of the library and avoiding being bitten by them or accidentally releasing another monster from a far-off dimension, which became worrisome when Cosette tripped and just avoided crashing into a pile of Curse books. It was quite a surprise to discover that by not dividing the work, and instead just scanning a book and moving it to the correct place, they were actually far quicker, and before they knew it, the entire Restricted Section was almost done – with only forty-eight shelves out of two hundred to go. As Musichetta, Éponine, Courfeyrac and Jehan all curled into armchairs and took a well-deserved quick nap (after all, they had just college-studented on a galaxy-brain scale, doing a weeks’ worth of work in about five hours) Enjolras taught Cosette the final skill.

“The last thing you need to know how to do is the Royal LookTM.”

“The what?”

“True nobility should be able to be conveyed in a single glance,” Enjolras explained. He demonstrated it for her. “Chin up, eyelids lowered, eyebrows arched, nostrils slightly flared, mouth ever-so-slightly pouty.”

Cosette attempted to copy him. “How’s this?”

Enjolras turned to her – and shuddered heavily at the expression she was pulling. Cosette looked like she was doing an impression of a duck and pig simultaneously. Her eyes, brows and chin weren’t terrible, but her duck-pout and overly flared nostrils were about as appealing as damp pyjamas.

“Yeah, maybe we’ll just stick with your trademark sweet smile for now.”

By the time ten more shelves were nearly done, Cosette could fully walk around the room with a book balanced on her head, and even more impressively balance a book that was placed on her head as she was moving, and Enjolras and Musichetta considered their work done.

“I reckon you’ll knock ‘em dead, Cosette,” Jehan grinned, and Éponine nodded in agreement. However, Courfeyrac cleared his throat worriedly.

“Hate to break it to you guys, but your Princess Crash Course has seriously slowed us down. If we don’t get the last thirty-eight shelves done before tomorrow, Cosette can’t go.”

“Don’t worry,” Enjolras smiled. “I have another idea.”

Courfeyrac raised his eyebrows. “Really? Because your last idea did _not_ work out so great.”

Enjolras shook his head, grinning madly. “This is different! We’ll just turn the Piskies into copies of us again, and –” he was pelted with cushions from the armchairs. “Kidding! What I was going to say is, we divide the books into piles according to subject and each take one subject at a time, getting six subjects done at once.”

“That could work,” Cosette smiled. “And if we work really fast, I bet we can get it all done in time without using tricks _or_ magic. We still have an hour to go before Javert dismisses us. All we have to do is believe we can do it.”

And so the madcap rush-hour began, and the Faeries found themselves sorting, deciding, dashing and climbing all over the room as quickly as they could. Miss Zephine dropped in when they had half an hour to go, and revealed that she’d brought some special glass display cases for the scrolls – which was a relief, because most of the scrolls were very determined to not go on a shelf. Javert showed up at exactly midnight, along with Headmaster Myriel, and the two examined the room at random, while the Amis held each other up and tried not to collapse into an exhausted heap on the floor. Eventually Javert turned to them, looking slightly less severe than usual.

“We’ve completed our inspection of the Restricted Section, and I must say, I am rather impressed.” Which from Javert was like a warm cuddle and a plate of chocolate cookies.

Myriel smiled knowingly next to him. “And I think it’s fair to grant you all permission to visit Eraklyon tomorrow.”

About an hour earlier, the Amis would have all jumped for joy. As it was, they all smiled peacefully and made various grunts of delight. Myriel chuckled. “If you want to look your best at that party, you’d better all head to bed now.” He took in Éponine’s rumpled clothes, the bags under Musichetta’s eyes, Jehan’s untidy hair, Courfeyrac’s dopey, half-lidded gaze and Enjolras’ unfocussed eyes. “Yes, I think you ought to go to bed right this instant – except you, Cosette.”

Cosette’s eyes, already comically wide from lack of sleep, widened even further. “But, Sir –!”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like a word with you before you leave,” Myriel continued. Cosette nodded, and the rest of the Amis filed out, followed by Javert. Myriel sighed and sat down before beginning. “I want to tell you something I’ve kept a secret for a very long time, but now it’s important that you know.”

Cosette frowned. “What secret? I thought you’d already told me everything you knew about her.” It didn’t take a genius to work out that it was something to do with her mother’s disappearance/death, and Cosette could admit that the discovery of another secret had made her a little shaken. The day back in her first year when she’d discovered her true identity, she’d been sure Myriel had told her everything he knew or suspected about Fantine.

“Not this,” the old Faery said quietly. “The time just wasn’t right before.” He raised his hand, and a book on the highest shelf that Cosette hadn’t been categorising floated down, bathed in pale blue light. “This is the story of a battle that took place seventeen years ago. This book documents an organisation known as the Company of Light, and its final chapters focus on their greatest and final battle – the battle against Félix Tholomyès and his masters: the three Ancestral Witches. As you might have guessed, Tholomyès is no ordinary sorcerer.”

“You said that he’s a Warlock,” Cosette recalled. “Is that another kind of magical being, like Faeries and Wizards and Witches?”

Myriel nodded, but then shook his head. “Yes – and no. A Warlock is a being created directly by magic. They appear human, but their true form is something generally monstrous to look at. But Tholomyès is unique even amongst Warlocks. When the great Dragon created our Universe, a small spark of its Flame fell into the Darkness. The Flame mixed with the Darkness, and that’s where the three Ancient Witches found it many millennia later.”

“The same Ancient Witches who are the ancestors of Patron-Minette?”

“Exactly. They moulded that Flame into the shape of a man, and named him Félix Tholomyès. They raised him as their son, and when he was old enough, they sent him to begin their conquering of all the worlds of the Magic Dimension.”

“But these warriors – the Company of Light – they fought him?” Cosette asked. “Who were they?”

Myriel smiled sadly. “They were a society of heroes – Faeries and Wizards and Witches and Elves and Leprechauns and Sorcerers and everyone in between. And the Company was founded by Queen Fantine – your mother, and the Supreme Nymph of Magix.”

“My mother was the founder of the Company of Light?” Cosette whispered. “So she fought Tholomyès in person?”

“Indeed. And it was her battle with Tholomyès that led to the Witches destroying Domino.” Myriel frowned. “Indeed, I believe it was Tholomyès who was personally sent to kill you in order to retrieve your powers for the Witches.”

Cosette eagerly leaned over the book, but to her surprise, Tholomyès wasn’t even mentioned – anywhere. “Professor,” she frowned, “how do you know all this?”

Myriel smiled serenely. “Because I was a member of the Company of Light. So were Lamarque and Thénardier. To drive back the forces of evil, we challenged Tholomyès together.”

“So was it you who trapped him in the Omega Dimension?”

Myriel shook his head, looking pained. “I’m not sure who it was who managed it. You see, during the final battle, Lamarque, Thénardier and I were all unconscious. Many horrible things had happened – we had seen our friends murdered, tortured into insanity, and vanish without a trace. Only two members of our army faced off with Tholomyès during the final battle, and when we awoke, Tholomyès and both of our friends were gone. The next day, only one returned from battle – my sister Baptastine. She was so haunted by what had happened, she refused to ever speak about it other than to tell us she had seen Tholomyès sealed into the Omega Dimension.” Myriel looked heartbroken. “She became a recluse. I haven’t spoken to her since that day seventeen years ago. As for Fantine,” he heaved a deep sigh, “no one ever saw her again.”

“But if no one really saw what happened to her…” Cosette’s voice shook excitedly, “do you think it could be possible that…”

“What, dear?”

“That my mother… could still be alive somewhere?”

Myriel shook his head sadly. “I can’t say. Nobody can except Baptastine, and no one knows where she is.”

“Tholomyès would know too,” Cosette said quietly. “If he was a part of that battle, he would have seen what happened to her.”

Myriel shook his head. “Cosette, we must be careful. This is why I told you about this. Tholomyès is a truly wicked creature. If he finds out who you are, he will surely come after you and take his revenge.” He sighed. “Now, go and get some sleep, Cosette. You have a big day tomorrow.”

Cosette was pale and shaking as she left the library. Not from a lack of sleep anymore, but rather because Tholomyès would almost certainly come after her now.

After all, she had told him her identity herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun DUN!!!


	8. In Which... What The Fuck, Marius? Just, What?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette is over the moon to be Marius' date for the 1000th Anniversary party on Eraklyon - and he apparently has a special surprise for her! But someone's looking to change the tune of the festivities...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm... very sorry.
> 
> It's not a nice thing I'm about to do here.

_“Cosette… Cosette!”_

_“Enjolras?” Cosette whispered. “Enjolras, is that you?”_

_“Cosette!”_

_“Éponine? Where are you?”_

_Enjolras, Éponine, Courfeyrac and Jehan fluttered into view in the gloom, circling around her. Suddenly, Enjolras swooped towards her, grinning wildly, and she shrieked – because his eyes were suddenly glowing red._

_“What’s the matter, Cosette?” he laughed._

_“Are you scared of us?” Éponine asked with a Cheshire grin. “Don’t be afraid, we’re your friends!” She burst out laughing, and it was a horrid, high-pitched thing that made Cosette shiver. The four Faeries flew faster and faster around her, and Cosette clamped her hands over her ears._

_“Go… go away!” she whispered. “I’m not scared of you – just stop it!”_

_“Aw,” Jehan purred. “You don’t need to be ashamed of what you’re not!”_

_Courfeyrac nodded in agreement, his normal wide smile suddenly looking sharp and evil. “It isn’t **your** fault you can never become a true Faery!” he taunted her._

_“An Enchantix, Cosette,” Jehan smirked. “That’s what they call real Faeries like Musichetta!”_

_Suddenly all four of them stopped circling, and stood behind her like sentries as a silhouette with enormous wings stepped out of the darkness. Cosette realized it was Musichetta, but as she came into view it was clear that she was not the sweet, brave girl that Cosette knew, for she had the same wicked grin as the others._

_“You’ll never be one of us,” she whispered. “Never… never… NEVER!”_

“NO! Stop it! Go away!”

“Cosette! COSETTE! Wake up!” Cosette’s eyes fluttered open sleepily. “You OK?”

Cosette jerked upright. “NO!” Musichetta’s concerned face swam into view; it appeared Cosette had fallen asleep in her lap on the bench at the back of the Owl.

“Cosette, it’s OK,” she smiled. “Everything’s alright, nothing’s going wrong. You’re OK.”

Cosette shuddered. “Sorry. I just had a really bad nightmare.”

Enjolras spun his chair in their direction. “You’re just nervous about Marius’ party, that’s all,” he said comfortingly. “It’s not every day you spend an evening with your boyfriend’s family – especially when his grandfather happens to be the king of Eraklyon. But it’ll be fine.”

Cosette nodded. “I just hope they keep liking me.”

“They will!” All three Faeries turned to see Marius leaning against the wall of the airship with a warm smile. “They’re going to love you, Cosette – just like I do.”

Cosette’s cheeks blushed pink, and her lips curved into a smile. “I love you too.”

“Disgusting, I love it,” Éponine laughed, then jumped as something flashed outside the windshield. “What was that?!”

“Don’t worry,” Marius reassured her. “That was just the magical fireworks that have been set up to welcome every guest to Eraklyon.” Another one exploded about forty feet ahead of them, the sparks forming the shape of the Eraklyon coat-of-arms: two blue diamonds interconnected by a yellow rose. Everyone oohed and aahed, and Grantaire gave an impressed whistle.

“Now that’s what I call a flashy welcome.”

As they neared the palace, their attention was caught by the building and the gardens, which had been enchanted to glitter in the sunset.

Courfeyrac squeezed Combeferre’s shoulder. “It looks beautiful, doesn’t it?” he said excitedly, and Combeferre smiled up at him in amusement.

“It does. You seem very excited.”

“I am,” Courfeyrac giggled. “It’s going to be such a great party – WHOA, LOOK OUT!”

Combeferre turned back to the windshield, and hurriedly steered higher, narrowly avoiding one of the great trees that grew alongside the long path up to the palace. As he began navigating towards the area that had been marked out for guests to park their aircraft, the conversation turned to what the party would be like.

“Rumour has it there’s going to be a huge orchestra,” Éponine said excitedly, and Marius nodded with a grin.

“That’s right.”

Enjolras wiggled in anticipation. “And I heard the cake is going to be over twenty feet high!”

Marius nodded again, his smile getting wider. “That’s true too!”

Bahorel looked particularly excited. “And _I_ heard that every guest is going to get a brand new hover-cycle.”

Marius frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

“Well, actually I made it up,” Bahorel admitted. “But wouldn’t that be awesome?!”

Everyone burst out laughing just as Combeferre lowered the ship into the reserved parking bay, and Jehan gazed dreamily out the window at the guests heading up to the palace.

“They all look so regal and glamorous… This is going to be the best night ever!”

Combeferre pressed the button for the doors to open, and Marius sighed. “Well, I have to go now, but I’ll see you all later at the ball.” He kissed Cosette’s cheek, making her blush again. “I’ll be counting down the minutes.”

Jehan cooed at the same time as Musichetta pretended to gag, and Marius headed down the ramp towards the palace.

 

* * *

 

As the Amis headed towards the party, which was to be held in the enormous rose garden behind the palace, Cosette couldn’t help admiring her dress in awe. She would have been happy to wear the same one she’d worn to Enjolras’ party, but her friends had insisted on dragging her out on a shopping trip just before they left, as it was a special occasion for her. As Enjolras had said, it’s not every day your boyfriend, who happens to be the Prince of Eraklyon, wants to announce to his entire kingdom that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you. So she had a new dress just for the occasion.

It was quite a simple cut: strapless and hugging her tight to her waist before flowing out around her, made of pale blue silk that faded through different shades until it turned midnight blue at the hem. And although she’d known she was a Princess for over a year, and known she was a Faery for even longer, this was the first time she’d felt like a proper Fairy Princess from a fairytale.

As they entered the rose garden, they were almost overwhelmed by the scene before them. Hundreds of people, dressed to the nines, stood talking to friends and making introductions, while enchanted trays drifted at chest-height, offering both glasses of something smooth and pink in colour, and tiny iced canapés. The orchestra was even bigger than Éponine could have imagined, and were set up on a multiple-leveled platform in one corner. Lights glittered in the enormous hedge opposite the entrance to the palace, and floated above the rose bushes. All in all, it looked amazing.

The Amis hurried to grab drinks just as the orchestra slowed down, and the huge doors to the palace swung open. A royal footman, dressed in a sparkling blue and yellow uniform, coughed loudly and pointed his fingers at his throat. A glow of light yellow magic later, and his voice boomed out over the garden.

“If I may have your attention, please?” The guests fell silent, turning to him in interest, and without further ado, he announced, “Presenting, their royal majesties King Adratai and Queen Chelnna, and their daughter, her royal highness Princess Margaux, of Lynphea.”

An elegant-looking couple wearing shades of green and warm smiles exited the doors and descended into the garden, followed by a smiling fourteen-year-old girl with long baby pink hair. They were met with excited applause as they reached the crowd and turned to see who would arrive next.

“His royal majesty, King Nicolas of Solaria, with Countess Giselle and son, Crown Prince Lucas.”

Cosette felt Enjolras stiffen angrily next to her as his father exited the doors. The king looked different than Cosette remembered, and with a nasty jolt she realised his normal sunny smile was nowhere to be seen; instead his face was blank and expressionless. Next to him, Giselle and Lucas looked unbearably smug, Lucas once again wearing the raspberry-coloured suit.

“I need to talk to him,” Enjolras muttered, starting forwards, and Cosette hurried to yank him back by his suit jacket.

“Enjolras, the last time he saw you, he ordered his guards to arrest you,” she hissed. “We got lucky last time because you knew your way out of the palace, but we don’t know our way around here. We can’t cause a scene.”

Enjolras made a noise like an angry cat, but stopped trying to walk towards his father, who was now standing at the front of the crowd.

A few more royal families were presented (although, Musichetta noted, her own parents were missing, as was the King of Resortia) and finally the footman introduced the hosts.

“His royal majesty, King Gillenormand, his niece, Princess Ophélie, and his grandson, Prince Marius!”

King Gillenormand looked as imposing as ever, although it seemed he’d added some extra wax to his spectacular bushy moustache for the occasion. Princess Ophélie, Marius’ aunt, was demure and beautiful beside him with her red hair piled high, and behind them –

Cosette’s heart skipped a beat. Dressed in a white jacket and trousers with gold embroidery and a billowing white shirt, shiny navy riding boots, blue gloves and a blue and gold cape with a high collar, Marius was the perfect fairytale prince. He could have been an illustration from a children’s storybook were it not for his flushed cheeks and slightly lopsided smile (clearly, the whole ‘royal look’ thing had not been drilled into him as fiercely as it had been to Enjolras), but to Cosette, this only made him more perfect. His hazel eyes met her blue ones, and she saw them sparkle with happiness and knew her own were shining too.

It really was the perfect night.

It was a pity the girl at the back of the crowd, with copper hair and a frilly pink dress, felt the same.

“Hurrah for Eraklyon and for the King and Princess,” she drawled quietly, glancing down at the scarlet bottle concealed in her purse. A smirk spread across her face. “And here’s to Prince Marius and a… _happy_ future.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as the applause died down, Jehan nudged Cosette in the side. “Cosette,” they giggled, “here comes your Prince!”

Indeed, Marius was walking through the crowd towards her, seemingly barely noticing the many admiring looks he was getting from most of the young ladies present (and a few older ones). His eyes were fixed on Cosette, and as soon as he reached her, he took her hand.

“What do you think?” he asked with a smile. “Are you ready to open the ball with me?”

Cosette’s eyes widened excitedly. “You want us to dance in front of _everybody?”_

“Of course!” Marius said. He led her forward to the area that had cleared of people, waiting for their Prince to open the ball. “And then I’m going to introduce you to everyone as my girlfriend – and then I have a surprise for you.”

All of that Princess Training flew out the window as Cosette’s face broke into a goofy, excited grin. _You can do this, Cosette,_ she thought. _You’ve been in much scarier situations._

Then as the orchestra began to play, Marius placed one hand on her waist and took her hand. She placed her free hand on his shoulder, and promptly forgot what she’d been afraid of.

As the music continued, more and more people joined the dance floor, but Cosette and Marius barely noticed, caught up in their own sort of daydream. But eventually she found herself getting a bit of a cramp in her left leg, and Marius immediately helped her over to a bench.

“Are you OK?” he asked worriedly, and she nodded.

“Yeah. I’ll just stretch it out a little and I’ll be fine.”

“That’s good,” Marius said relievedly. “Well, I was about to go and speak to my grandfather before I made the official announcement, so I’ll do that now.” He kissed her cheek. “You be careful, OK? I love you.”

“I will,” Cosette smiled. “I love you too.” Just like every time he said it, her heart felt like it was soaring into the sky on a pair of glittery wings. Marius kissed her cheek one last time before heading off, and Cosette stretched out her leg with a happy sigh. Even in spite of the cramp, this was turning out to be one of the best nights of her life.

 

* * *

 

 

Marius was halfway across the rose garden towards his grandfather and aunt when someone stepped directly into his path, holding two drinks. “Marius!” they said excitedly.

Marius startled. “Uh, yes?” Then he recognised who had intercepted him. “Oh. Hi, Céleste.”

Céleste smiled, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I haven’t seen you in so long! Is that any way to welcome an old friend?” She wore a frilly pink dress and looked, Marius thought, rather like a slightly aggressive wedding cake.

“Well, I…” he started, but Céleste steamrollered over him.

“We were very good friends once,” she purred. “In fact, if I recall correctly, we were more than friends…”

“That’s all ancient history, Céleste,” Marius said uncomfortable. “I’d really rather not talk about it.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” she said understandingly, and he frowned internally. _Céleste being understanding? Céleste agreeing to change the subject on someone else’s terms?_ “Let’s just have one last toast in your honour.” She offered him one of the drinks she was holding, and he thought, _well, one drink won’t hurt._

He was wrong about that.

“Shall we?” Céleste asked, and he nodded, taking the offered glass. “To your happiness, Marius.”

He clinked his drink against hers. “And here’s to yours, Céleste.” They both drained their glasses, and Marius put his empty glass down on an empty tray as it floated by. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have an important announcement to make.”

“Of course,” Céleste nodded. “Don’t let me keep you.”

 

* * *

 

Cosette watched the platform where King Gillenormand and Princess Ophélie were seated in anticipation, which became excitement as Marius appeared next to them. The cramp had passed, and she got to her feet and hurried to rejoin her friends, who were grouped together near the front of the crowd now that the dancing had stopped. Jehan squeezed her arm.

“He’s going to make the announcement,” they squealed quietly. “Oh, Cosette, I’m so happy for you!”

King Gillenormand was getting to his feet, and all eyes turned to him. “Dearest friends,” he began grandly, “on this festive day, the One-Thousandth Anniversary of our great kingdom, my grandson has a very special announcement.”

“This is it, Cosette!” Éponine whispered as Gillenormand sat back down. Cosette took a deep breath.

“Hold me up if I faint, alright?”

Marius stepped forwards with a smile. “Thank you, everyone, for being here tonight to help us celebrate. As many of you know, it has been a tradition for the monarchs of Eraklyon to know who they want to marry before they are made Crown Prince or Princess, and it gives me great joy to announce that I know who I wish to marry. I would like you all to meet the sweetest, bravest, kindest girl in the whole Magic Dimension.”

“He really is utterly in love with her,” Grantaire murmured to Enjolras, who nodded in agreement.

“She brings me so much joy that nothing would make me happier than spending the rest of my life by her side,” Marius continued. Cosette felt her eyes well up with happy tears. “My friends,” Marius smiled, “Grandfather, Auntie, I would like to introduce you all to my future Queen –”

Cosette stepped forward excitedly.

“– Céleste, Duchess of Iris.”

 

* * *

 

 

The mutters broke out in the crowd as Céleste hurried forward into the Prince’s waiting arms. Their betrothal coming to an end had been well-documented in pretty much every magazine in the Magic Dimension, not to mention the rumours that Marius had left Céleste for another girl. But as the couple embraced on the stage, it seemed the magazines were mistaken. They looked to be quite in love.

Céleste pulled Marius closer with a smirk. “Tholomyès’ love potion has worked its magic,” she whispered, “and now you are finally mine!”

Marius smiled adoringly. “Yes, my dear.”

Only one person was silent. Cosette stood as still as a statue, with tears in her eyes that refused to fall, shock and heartbreak coursing through her entire body. She could barely hear her friends’ shocked mutters.

“What?”

“I don’t understand!”

“How could he do this?”

“I can’t believe this!” Combeferre said loudly and angrily. “What’s wrong with Marius?”

“He’s gone insane!” Grantaire agreed.

Bahorel glared up at where the Prince was embracing the conniving Duchess. “Not cool, man.”

Cosette felt a hand on her shoulder, and she closed her eyes, letting the first tears fall down her cheeks. “He totally led me on,” she whispered. “How could he _do_ something like that?”

“Hang on, Cosette,” she heard Enjolras say. “There’s got to be an explanation for this.”

Cosette looked up at him, her vision blurred by tears. “Céleste is his ex-girlfriend, remember?” she said hollowly. “Maybe all this time… he was just… p-pretending to be in love with me… when all along he was actually i-in love with… h-h-h-h-her…”

Enjolras looked enraged. “If that’s true,” he said coldly, “Marius is messing with the wrong people. He better get his royal ass down here and give us an explanation pronto – or Eraklyon is going to very quickly find itself without an heir.” He marched forward towards the platform with Éponine and Musichetta in hot pursuit, but they quickly found their way blocked by a guard holding a long spear.

“And where do you think you’re going?” the guard glared, but Enjolras paid him barely any attention.

“Freeze, tough guy!” he barked, and with a flash of golden sparks, the guard’s arms snapped to his sides and his legs stuck together, leaving him immobile. Enjolras, Éponine and Musichetta barreled forwards and began marching up the steps.

Unfortunately, Céleste noticed them before they could reach Marius. Swooning like a damsel in distress, she wailed, “That boy and those girls are out to get me! They’re dangerous, Marius, really dangerous! Please, stop them! Them and their friends – down there!”

Marius’ eyes narrowed, no trace of kindness left in them. “Of course, my dear,” he said.

“They’re Witches, Marius,” Céleste continued, although she really didn’t need to. “Minions of Félix Tholomyès! _Listen to me, my darling, and do as I say!”_

Marius raised himself up to his full height. “Guards!” he barked. “Arrest those Witches!” He pointed to Enjolras, Éponine and Musichetta, and the entire crowd gasped. Gillenormand got to his feet with a frown.

“Marius! What is the matter with you? We do not arrest guests!”

“But Grandfather!” Marius said angrily. “Those Witches are Tholomyès’ spies – and so are their friends!” He pointed at Cosette, Courfeyrac and Jehan. Their jaws dropped in shock. “We have to stop them!”

Before the Amis could react, armed guards were rushing towards them. Jehan and Courfeyrac had had the good sense to take off towards the exit, but Cosette was stood frozen, staring up at Marius. “It’s not true!” she gasped. Her voice cracked unforgivingly. “Not true at all!”

Enjolras, Éponine and Musichetta hurried back down the stairs, and Enjolras grabbed Cosette’s arm, pulling her along with him. “They won’t believe you!” he said urgently. “We need to get out of here!” Cosette allowed him to pull her along, her only protest a harsh sob.

Watching the commotion unfold, Countess Giselle raised an eyebrow. “Enjolras and his friends seem to have a knack for getting into trouble,” she commented to Lucas, who sniggered. “Obviously that school of theirs doesn’t offer lessons in gentlemanly behaviour.”

“Guards!” Marius shouted. “Get them!”

The Amis sped up, Éponine, Jehan, Musichetta and Cosette holding up their long skirts. Guests cowered in fear as they passed, and Éponine caught some of their whispers.

“Witches! Can you believe?”

“So dangerous…”

“I can’t believe they’re going to arrest us just because they think we’re Witches!” she said angrily. “Dark magic is in play here!”

“The same kind that was used at Enjolras’ party,” Courfeyrac agreed. The pandemonium was spreading, and now guests were hurrying for the exit. The Wizards tried to push through the crowd to assist their friends, but there were simply too many people. Luckily, Éponine’s hyper-precise hearing was still in play, and she zeroed in on Bahorel’s shout.

“Ponine! Head for the labyrinth! We’ll get you on the other side!”

She gave a sharp nod in the hope that he could see her, and glanced back at her friends. “This way!” She pointed towards the gap in the enormous hedge that led to the royal labyrinth.

 

* * *

 

 

Félix Tholomyès watched them run via his viewing portal, and smiled in amusement. “Fear and lies,” he commented to the three Witches next to him, who were watching the scene in awe. “The most powerful weapons there are, helped along by a Dark Love potion and a girl who knows how to get what she wants.” He surveyed his companions with a smirk. “That Céleste would make a perfect fourth member of Patron-Minette.”

Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer all looked unimpressed, Claquesous especially. As the only girl in the group, she wasn’t about to share her status as Queen of Darkness with anyone else.

Tholomyès laughed softly. “Don’t worry, I’m just kidding. Really.” He turned back to the viewing portal. “Now watch… and learn.”

 

* * *

 

 

“I order you to stop right now!” the leading guard shouted as they entered the labyrinth. Enjolras glared over his shoulder.

“Or else _what?”_

A blast of scarlet light issued from the end of the guard’s spear, forcing Enjolras to duck his head. Éponine glared at him.

“You always have to ask?”

“We need to fight back!” Musichetta said. Jehan looked worried.

“But it’s not the soldiers’ fault! We can’t hurt them!”

“I agree with Jehan,” Courfeyrac said. “They’re following orders from someone who has always given good orders before!”

Cosette wiped her damp face with her black satin glove. “I think we can get out of here without having to fight them,” she said. Her voice was shaking a little, but she sounded as determined as ever.

“How?” Éponine rolled her eyes. “By asking permission like good little Faeries?”

Cosette shook her head. “Remember what Palladium taught us about navigating an unknown environment? Listen to what nature tells us.” They turned the corner, and she narrowed her eyes as the path split ahead. “Jehan, which path is our best bet?"

Jehan's head tilted to one side. "The hedge says that the one on the right splits, and the left split leads directly to the exit."

"Right then left. Let's go!"

 

* * *

 

 

The soldiers made it through a particularly narrow path and frowned when they couldn’t tell which way the Faeries had gone. “Dammit! We lost them!”

“Let’s try the path on the left,” the Head of the Guard decided. The guards all headed down the left path, but unfortunately it led to a dead end. The Head Guard, however, had been appointed Head Guard for a reason, and it was up to him, he decided, to take initiative here. “We’ll shoot our way through! Open fire!”

The guards all raised their spears and began blasting scarlet light at the hedge, which quickly disintegrated, leaving a man-sized hole. “Nice work, men! This way!”

 

* * *

 

 

The Amis' path, most unfortunately, was parallel to the one the soldiers had taken, and since the soldiers had decided to shoot their way through, they began to hear intermittent blasts behind them, until suddenly to their horror the hedge behind them blew apart and the soldiers were on their tail.

Jehan acted quickly, blasting the hedge with yellow sparks, and huge vines immediately shot out of the ground, swatting at the guards.

“What are those things?” a guard shouted. “They’re huge!”

Another guard shot at them, and was forced to duck as the blast rebounded – Jehan had decided it might be an idea to invest in cultivating magic-proof vines.

“Retreat!” another guard shouted, and the Faeries sped up with a relieved sigh.

“That was amazing, Jehan!” Musichetta whooped.

“Another win for Mother Nature!” Enjolras added.

“Look!” Courfeyrac shouted. “The exit is right up ahead!”

Indeed, a second later they were out of the labyrinth, and next to the path they had taken to get from the ship to the garden. Just a little further, and they’d be back at the ship –

An arrow made of blue flames shot towards them, forcing them to dive out of the way. Cosette looked up to see Marius holding a bow, clearly ready to form another arrow. He had several guards standing next to him, with their spears raised.

“You made a _big_ mistake coming here, you Witches!” he said coldly. Enjolras glared heatedly back.

 _“Now_ can we use magic on them?” he growled, but Musichetta patted his shoulder.

“Let _me_ take care of it,” she said. Her shoulders were back, her chin was up, and she looked utterly composed, as opposed to Marius and the guards, who looked angry and wary. “Musichetta Enchantix!”

Musichetta’s Enchantix transformation was apparently slightly different to her old one. Instead of her Faery form appearing in a flash of white light, instead there was a swirl of colour around her – pale green, yellow, and pink – and then she fluttered into the air on her new, beautiful wings.

“I’m not impressed by your little party trick,” Marius sneered. He fit another arrow to his bow, and Musichetta smirked.

“That’s because you haven’t seen what an Enchantix can do.” Her hands glowed pink, and suddenly an enormous barrier of Morphix stretched in front of them, shielding them. Marius fired an arrow at it regardless, but to his annoyance, the barrier merely absorbed the fire like a sponge mopping up water. He angrily fired another arrow, and met the same result, making Musichetta shake her head in amusement.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” she chuckled. “For every shot that hits the Morphix…” she waited for Marius to fire a third, fourth and fifth arrow before continuing, “it gets fired back twice as hard.”

Indeed, the Morphix warped and shot the arrows right back at Marius and the guards, who ducked with a cry of “GET DOWN!”

“Come on, mes Amis,” Enjolras said, “let’s get back to the ship.” Éponine, Courfeyrac and Musichetta all followed him, but Jehan glanced back at Cosette, who hadn’t moved.

“‘Sette?”

As if in a trance, Cosette approached the barrier. “Go on,” she said quietly. “I’ll join you in a minute.” Jehan nodded and followed their friends, and Cosette reached the barrier, gazing at Marius with sad, desperate eyes. “Marius,” she whispered. “My Marius. What has happened to you?”

Marius approached the barrier, and swung a fist at the area next to her face. It wasn’t his usual, coordinated punch – it was sloppy, and glanced off the barrier quite harmlessly. Something inside him – some switch or lever – had completely flipped. His angry hazel eyes glared back at her, evil rage twisting his face into something it shouldn’t be.

“Why did you do this to me?” she continued sadly. “Where has all our love gone?” She sighed miserably. “Where… where have _you_ gone, Marius?”

“Be QUIET, Witch!” Marius growled. “I don’t want to hear it! QUIET!” He summoned another fire arrow, but once again it was absorbed by the shield and bounced back at him, twice as hard. Cosette watched silently, with round, tearful eyes. “How dare you?!” he snarled, before flinging the bow at her. It too glanced off the barrier, falling harmlessly to the ground.

Cosette turned as the tears began pouring down her cheeks again, heading after her friends. Behind her, Marius aimed another clumsy punch at the shield.

“You can’t hide forever!” he yelled, and Cosette let out a tiny, broken sob. “You haven’t heard the last of me!” He turned in the other direction and began to walk away. Cosette glanced over her shoulder to see him one last time. Marius never looked back at her.

 

* * *

 

She caught up to her friends easily enough, and it wasn’t long before they reached the ship, which the Wizards had moved around to the side of the labyrinth. Grantaire poked his head out worriedly. “There you are!” he said, sounding relieved. “Come on, we need to get out of here!”

The Faeries sped up, but suddenly they heard a terrible roar, followed by the unmistakeable sound of rushing flames – and then Jehan let out a cry of pain, and collapsed to the ground.

Musichetta immediately swooped down to them, pushing their singed ginger curls aside to reveal a new, shining scarlet burn. “What happened?!”

“THAT’S WHAT HAPPENED!” Courfeyrac shrieked, and the Amis turned, fearfully, and realised they were face to face with –

A dragon. A fully-grown Eraklyon mix with fury in its eyes – and Marius on its back.

“Back in the day on the planet of Earth,” the Prince began with a nasty smirk, “Witches would be punished with fire. And it’s about to get really hot around here.”

Cosette looked up at her ex-boyfriend and clenched her teeth. “Enjolras,” she said quietly, but with unbridled fury burning in her eyes, “you and the others get Jehan to the ship. I’ll take care of _Marius.”_ Enjolras nodded, and Cosette rolled her shoulders back. _It’s one thing to do what you’ve done to me, but now you have attacked my friends. You’re about to find out exactly what it means to be on the wrong side of a Dragon, Marius._ “Cosette Charmix!”

She was surprised at first to hear more cries behind her as her friends transformed, but magic would, after all, be the best way to get Jehan safely to the ship. As the others headed for the safety of the Owl, Cosette flew towards Marius with white-hot flames burning in her hand. Unfortunately, Marius had not lost his excellent reflexes, and easily dodged her spell. He formed a sword of blue flames and pulled up next to her, swiping at her. Luckily, Cosette was far more used to airborne combat, and easily fluttered out of the way.

The Faeries got Jehan close enough to the ship, and Grantaire and Bahorel hurried to support them on-board. However, Marius noticed them, and a deeper anger crackled in his eyes.

“Traitors!” he spat. “These Witches have put a spell on you guys!”

Grantaire glanced over his shoulder to glare at the boy who had, up until very recently, been his best friend in the Universe. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, buddy,” he growled, “but you know somethin’? You’re being an absolute bastard.”

Marius lost the sword and formed the bow again. “Just so you know,” he said coldly, fitting an arrow to it, “we are _not_ friends any more.”

The arrow ripped a hole in Grantaire’s sleeve, leaving a scarlet burn on his arm. The boy winced, but ignored the pain to shift Jehan’s arm across his shoulders. “Fine by me,” he grunted. Enjolras fluttered down next to him, looking concerned.

“Are you OK?”

“I’m fine, Enj,” Grantaire sighed. “Marius is the one who got really messed up tonight.” He frowned, looking confused and hurt and angry all at once. “I just don’t understand what happened.”

There was a gasp in the air, and everyone turned to see three more dragons swooping down, ridden by guards. Courfeyrac turned to Combeferre.

“Ferre,” he said urgently, “get Jehan onto the ship and then get everything ready for take-off. Enjolras, Éponine and I will deal with the dragons.”

“On it!”

Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Éponine became blurs of red, purple and yellow as they zoomed around the dragons’ heads then turned to lead them away from the ship – but unfortunately, away from the ship was the direction of the party. King Gillenormand had managed to restore order, and most of the guests had stopped trying to leave – which meant that the empty battleground of the garden was not as empty as the Faeries had hoped.

As pandemonium broke out once again, Céleste shook her head angrily. “Those Witches have ruined my formal presentation party!”

King Gillenormand ignored her. “The situation is serious!” he said loudly. “Everyone, head back to your ships in a calm and orderly fashion!”

Enjolras swooped and dived to dodge the blast of fire from one dragon’s mouth, and smelled burning hair, wincing as he realised the end of his ponytail had been singed. Luckily, help was at hand: Musichetta caught up with them and easily created Morphix muzzles over all three dragons’ mouths. A second spell, and they were wearing Morphix blindfolds too. With no way to see where they were going, the dragons were forced to land in the now emptying garden, rendered quite harmless.

 

* * *

 

 

Cosette and Marius circled each other in mid-air, Marius once again summoning a fire-blade, but Cosette easily knocked it out of his hand. He formed it again, she blasted it away again. And again.

Seeing that his sword tactic was getting nowhere, Marius shook his dragon’s reigns and began speeding towards her. Cosette took off away from him, flying up in a loop over his head and leading him away from the ship, weaving and twirling so he couldn’t get a good shot at her with the dragon. They reached the garden too, and Cosette flew lower, knowing the dragon would find it harder to manoeuvre.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t accounted for the still-trying-to-leave guests – or the dragon deciding that now was as good a time as any to start breathing fire in random directions.

As those still in the garden shrieked their heads off and dashed away from where the lawns were suddenly ablaze, Cosette turned towards the palace, flying very close to it before suddenly shooting upwards. The dragon, with a far bigger wingspan, crashed right into the wall, knocking Marius off its back. The guards were all concerned with trying to get the guests out, while the footmen were hurrying towards Marius to make sure he was alright. The blindfolded, muzzled dragons were being led back to their stable to try and remove the Morphix, so the scene seemed pretty under control.

It was very, very unlucky that no one had accounted for the dragon that had just flown into the wall.

Dragons are tough creatures, and this one was big enough to shake off flying into the wall like one shakes off a random, unexplained burst of irritation. Of course, the metaphor doesn’t quite work in this context – especially when you consider that colliding with solid brick like that might not have concussed the dragon, but had certainly pissed it off.

And no one likes a pissed off dragon.

“He’s coming this way!” King Nicolas shouted. Next to him, Giselle’s eyes widened, and she nudged Lucas sharply.

“Nicolas, keep him busy.” And with that, the Countess and her son hurried off towards the ship. The dragon whipped its tail, knocking Nicolas to the ground.

 

* * *

 

 

Giselle stepped smartly onto the ship with Lucas right behind her. “Get us out of here!” she barked at the pilot, who frowned.

“But Countess, King Nicolas –”

“Do as I say!” she snarled. “Take off immediately! That’s an order!”

The pilot nodded, and a second later, the ship was rising high into the air.

Down on the ground, Nicolas watched it rise with horrified eyes. “Giselle!” he gasped. “Giselle, wait! How could you?” He barely ducked as the dragon whipped its tail at him again, and the King of Solaria let out a terrified yell.

 

* * *

 

 

Where he was heading back to the Owl, Enjolras turned at the sound of a familiar shout. “Dad,” he muttered, and before anyone could stop him, he took off towards it.

The king backed away from the dragon, shaking in terror, while the beast looked down at him with amused eyes. Enjolras sped over the labyrinth again, pulling his ring off his finger to summon his sceptre.

“DAD!” he screamed. The king looked up just as the beast opened its mouth and the flammable gas began to form in its throat.

“Enjolras! NO, DON’T!”

Enjolras threw himself between his father and the dragon, and spun the sceptre like a baton, summoning a magical shield. Unfortunately, he was tiring quickly, first from running through the maze and then from the first fight against the dragons. The dragon paused to take a breath just as Enjolras did – and Enjolras used the moment to send a blast of sun magic into its throat. He remembered from fighting a chimera last year that if you ignited a monster’s flammable gas a second before it did, you could damage the creature enough that it would have to give up fighting you.

Very, very, _very_ unluckily, he missed the biting point.

Instead, the dragon’s fire mixed with the sun magic, creating an even more powerful temporary weapon. Enjolras raised his sceptre to create another shield spell, but he was too late.

There’s a theory in the Magic Dimension that with the more powerful magic, only the magic which created something can destroy it. And it was about to be proved very, very true: as the Sceptre of Solaria had been forged from Solaria’s second sun (and thus, made from sun magic), the fire imbued with sun magic easily split it right down the middle.

The burnt black metal fell to the ground, useless, but the dragon was rearing up to blast at his father again, and Enjolras did the only thing he could think of: he flew between them and took the blast himself.

 

* * *

 

 

As soon as the dragon paused to take a breath, the royal dragon handlers rushed it and clamped a muzzle onto its jaws, leading it back to the stable. Luckily, King Nicolas was the only guest left in the garden.

Well. Almost the only guest left.

Collapsed, face down on the ground and not moving, was his son.

As soon as the dragon was out of sight, Nicolas hurried over to Enjolras. “Enjolras! Enjolras, are you OK? Enjolras, speak to me!”

Enjolras didn’t move.

“Jojo?” Nicolas whispered. His eyes welled with terrified tears. “Jojo, my little boy! Answer me, please! Say something, anything!”

Enjolras lay on the ground, still as can be, and Nicolas felt his heart break. His Enjolras, his Jojo, his baby boy… he couldn’t be…

Then the light began to descend from the heavens – the most beautiful light Nicolas had ever seen. It floated down until it landed next to Enjolras, then suddenly it enveloped him.

Nicolas couldn’t move. Was this what happened when Faeries died?

But no, suddenly Enjolras was standing before him, as healthy as ever, and he looked – different. His blond hair reached his ankles, and was pulled back from his face on the left side by three braids held in place by tiny stars. Another braid hung down on the right amidst the hair just behind his head. He wore a red top that crossed over his chest, tied in place with criss-crossing black material, a glittering belt made of tiny blue diamonds, and a warrior’s skirt of alternating red and black. Blue footless warrior’s sandals wove up his legs, and silver gloves reached his elbows. A tiny blue choker held a star-shaped bottle in place over his collarbone. Streaks of scarlet paint curved down his high cheekbones, and enormous blue and gold wings sprouted from his back, glittering with tiny red diamonds.

He’d become a true Faery.

“Enjolras!” a voice shouted from above, and Enjolras and Nicolas turned to see the Owl hovering above the labyrinth, with Éponine leaning out of the open doors. “Enjolras, we need to go!”

“Arrest that Witch!” a guard shouted, and Enjolras glanced over his shoulder to see more armed guards rushing towards him. He turned to his father, with a serious expression.

“I’ll see you soon, Dad,” he said fiercely. “That’s a promise.”

And then he turned and flew up to the ship, which disappeared over the horizon a few seconds later. King Nicolas smiled after it.

“See you soon,” he whispered. “My dear son.”

 

* * *

 

 

Behind King Nicolas, Céleste possessively embraced Marius, who hugged her back. She noticed a raised mark had appeared on his neck, and smirked. It was exactly like the one that had appeared on hers when she’d accepted the love potion.

Tholomyès was so powerful, he must have made them soulmates!

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès himself, however, wasn’t feeling too powerful at the moment as he watched them through his viewing portal. It was only half a victory, after all. Marius had failed to dispose of Cosette – but at least he was still under Tholomyès control. He could be useful in the future – but for now, Tholomyès had to brood.

The Amis were turning out to be a tougher enemy than he’d thought.

 

* * *

 

On the ship, Cosette stared unseeingly out of the window, jumping as Enjolras sat next to her.

“We both lost something tonight, didn’t we?” he said. It wasn’t really a question, but she nodded all the same.

“I think we both lost a little part of our souls tonight,” Cosette said quietly. She looked up at him, and to his relief, determination was burning in her eyes as fierce as ever. “But we’re going to get those pieces back, Enj. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I am so. So. Sorry.


	9. In Which Cosette Only Wanted To Talk To Marius

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the dreadful events on Eraklyon, the Amis are doing their best to cheer up Cosette. But rumours have been floating around, and some students' parents are less than happy with her presence at the school...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, it's 10.30 in the morning here and about two of my braincells are working. Must... drink... coffee...
> 
> Enjoy!!

“There she is! Go get her, Wolter!”

Wolter dashed out of the bushes and leapt into his mistress’ arms as she walked along the forest path, snuggling her and purring happily. Cosette looked down at him in surprise.

“Hey, Wolter,” she cooed. “Nice to see you too!” She giggled as he scrambled up and draped himself across her shoulders, nosing at her neck. “Aw, I know you love me, even if Marius doesn’t.”

“We love you too, Cosette!” Enjolras shouted, wriggling out of the bush he’d concealed himself in, followed by Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan – who had somehow acquired a small bird’s nest for a hat. “We love you very, very much!” He pulled her and Wolter into a warm hug. After a moment, Jehan cleared their throat.

“Did you order breakfast in the park?”

“Breakfast?” Cosette said confusedly as Enjolras let go of her and Wolter hopped down. Jehan snapped their fingers, and the Piskies emerged from the bushes too, all wearing tiny tuxedoes. To Cosette’s amazement, they began setting up a picnic on the sun-warmed grass. Simone conjured a picnic blanket (blue, purple and pink, Cosette’s favourite colours), and the others took turns making food appear on it – a basket of cheese and crackers, a plate of fresh croissants, an enormous bowl of fruit, and finally a cool-box filled with chocolate ice-cream. Manon tied a napkin around Cosette’s neck, and all of the Piskies bowed.

“Your magical breakfast is served!” Juliette announced proudly.

Jehan clapped their hands, and a bouquet of flowers in a glass vase appeared too – yellow roses and pink tulips. Cosette sighed, smiling sadly.

“I’m not very hungry, but this is really sweet. Thanks, guys.” Éponine pulled her down to sit on the blanket, and Enjolras, Jehan and Courfeyrac joined them. Courfeyrac pushed the plate of croissants towards her.

“Don’t worry, Cosette,” he said comfortingly. “You’ll feel better soon.”

Cosette attempted a smile, but it came out looking pained. “I just still can’t believe what happened,” she said sadly. “I just… never thought Marius would do something like that.” The Amis all nodded in agreement, frowning. They’d never thought Marius capable of such a despicable act either.

The silence was broken by a loud spluttering noise, and they all turned to see Wolter attempting to cram a banana into his cheeks like a hamster – apparently he’d forgotten that rabbits don’t have cheek pouches. The sight was quite comical, and it did lift the mood.

“Excuse you, Monsieur Glouton,” Cosette chuckled, pulling the banana away. Wolter had the decency to look sheepish.

 

* * *

 

“We can’t take any risks,” Headmaster Myriel said urgently. The projections of Headmasters Lamarque and Thénardier from the holophone both nodded in agreement. “I’ve already installed magical barriers around the school and changed the rules about leaving campus.”

“Good thinking,” Lamarque nodded. “Tholomyès is incredibly dangerous. If he’s looking for magical knowledge, it won’t be long before he attacks one of the schools! We must be ready.”

“If only we knew where he was,” Thénardier mused, “or where he intended to strike next. But Tholomyès is a tricky fellow.”

“If by tricky, you mean unpredictable, vicious and evil, then yes,” Myriel sighed. “You and I both know he will do anything to get what he wants. And unfortunately, he has already met Cosette and knows her identity – and I don’t doubt that he knows by now that she is at Musain. I am sure he will come here, looking for her – possibly out of revenge, if Fantine really was the one to defeat him all those years ago.”

When the call ended, Myriel immediately sent for the teachers to come to his office. He had a matter of great importance to discuss with them, and as soon as they had gathered, he reached for one of the books he had left on his desk. Tucked into the pages was an ancient scroll, covered in spells written in an ancient language, in pale pink ink that still shimmered after all this time.

“This scroll contains some of the most ancient magic known to Faeries,” he began, “and it may be our only chance of survival. It is our school’s greatest treasure, and Félix Tholomyès will stop at nothing to get it – which is why I have decided to remove it from the shelves of my own library, and will be moving it somewhere safer. But first, I believe it is time we used the magic kept within it. It contains many magical defence spells, and I believe if we all converge upon it at once, we should be able to use it to protect our school.”

The teachers all nodded solemnly, and got to their feet, linking hands – Javert, Wizgiz, Palladium, Mabeuf, and Fauchelevent. Myriel stood between Javert and Fauchelevent, and the scroll glowed the same pale pink as the ink on it. “Repeat after me,” Myriel said. “ _Omne quod est boni et veri, ac tenebras insurgere in defendat._ ”

“ _Omne quod est boni et veri, ac tenebras insurgere in defendat_ ,” the teachers repeated, and they felt a shudder of pure magic sweeping across them, rising up to join the defences that already lay in place.

 

* * *

 

The next day, Myriel was cross-marking the second years’ first essay of the year when he heard a sharp knock at his door. “Please come in,” he said, putting down Azelma Thénardier’s essay, which had been doing very well (Éponine had excelled at this segment too – it seemed growing up around dark magic gave you an advantage in knowing how to combat it). Javert opened the door, looking gravely serious, and Myriel frowned, instinctively reaching for the little blue bottle of Faery Dust he kept concealed under his robes.

“Sorry to interrupt, Headmaster,” Javert said, frowning more than usual, “but some students’ parents are here. They’d like a word with you.”

Myriel dropped his hand from the bottle and nodded. “Of course, Javert. Send them in.”

Javert stood aside, and three couples entered the room. Myriel recognised them as the parents of Philibert in Third Year, Marlowe in Second Year, and Annilee in First Year. He frowned internally – all three students were hard workers and had been doing well (indeed, Marlowe’s essay had been one of the best so far), and he doubted family tragedies had struck all at the same time, so to what purpose was this visit? Of course, he didn’t allow his face to betray his thoughts, smiling politely at them. “What can I do for you today?”

Philibert’s father cleared his throat. “We came to talk to you because we are very worried,” he began. He had a high, plummy voice, and Myriel concealed a smirk upon realising where Philibert’s pompous attitude came from. A quick glance in Javert’s direction told him that the Head of Discipline was also holding back a small smile. “We feel Musain is no longer a safe place for our sons and daughters,” he continued, and Myriel instantly sobered. “I’m sure you have heard the rumours about Tholomyès’ ties to one of your students, Cosette? We feel her presence here is highly dangerous.”

Myriel stared back at the man, his eyes no longer twinkling but instead glinting like steel. “If you’ll beg my pardon, sir,” he said coolly, “I am an academic professor. I deal in fact, not rumours. And I fail to see how an innocent teenage girl who has few other concerns beyond receiving an education could be considered a threat.” Of course, Cosette’s other concerns tended to centre around getting involved with fighting the most evil beings the dimension had to offer, but Myriel thought it might be wise to keep that part to himself. “You have no reason to be afraid. We are still trying to figure out what happened on Eraklyon, but the fact remains that Cosette is one of our best students. She is also very honest and trustworthy, and I guarantee you, there is no truth to the rumour that she is connected to Tholomyès.” _At least, not in the way you seem to think._

“Professor Myriel,” Marlowe’s mother said sharply, “we need to know that our children are living in a safe environment. In other words –”

Annilee’s mother got to her feet, straightening her glasses. “We want Cosette to be removed from the school – immediately,” she said coldly. “If that doesn’t happen, we will be forced to take action.”

 

* * *

 

At that moment, Cosette was lying on her bed, face down so her tears splashed directly onto her pillow. Keeping up the ‘I’m sad but dealing with it’ façade had been harder than she’d expected, and she was exhausted from faking smiles all day. Juliette stroked her hair, and eventually Cosette turned onto her side so she could talk with her favourite Piskie.

“I just can’t believe it ended this way,” she sobbed. Juliette silently conjured her a tissue. “Thanks, Jules,” Cosette hiccupped. She noisily blew her nose. “Why would he lie to me?”

“I don’t know, Cosette,” Juliette sighed sadly. “I never saw it coming either.”

There was a soft knock at the door, and Éponine poked her head into the room. “Cosette?” she said quietly. “Sorry to barge in on you, but Headmaster Myriel called a school meeting. We need to go.”

Cosette nodded, sitting up and sliding her feet into a pair of worn grey Vans. She avoided looking at Éponine’s face, knowing that seeing the other girl’s sadness on her behalf would just make her start crying again.

 

* * *

 

Enjolras, Jehan and Courfeyrac were already in their usual spot at the front of the amphitheatre, but Musichetta was nowhere to be seen. Apparently, she’d returned to Andros early that morning at her parents’ request. Myriel looked incredibly serious in the centre of the room – in fact, the most serious Cosette could remember seeing him.

“My dear students,” he began, and there was an unusual heaviness to his voice. “As you already know, a truly evil Warlock has broken out of the Omega Dimension.” The room filled with worried whispers that died down as quickly as they had appeared – perhaps it was the look on Myriel’s face. “The creature’s name is Félix Tholomyès. Yes?”

A slender girl with dark red curls had raised her hand. “Are we in more danger now than we were before?” she said shakily. “Is this what this assembly’s about?” Cosette thought her name might be Marty or Marilyn, or something similar.

“For the moment, no,” Myriel replied, and the girl ( _Marlowe!_ Cosette remembered) lowered her hand in relief. “We are perfectly safe, but in the future our school could indeed be a target, so we must all be vigilant and report anything suspicious – _anything_. Tholomyès is likely looking for revenge, and he may try to take it out on me – or Cosette.” The Amis gasped, but Cosette merely exhaled, her conversation with Myriel in the library floating back to her. She could sense the other students turning to look at her, some in fear and some in concern – and even one or two looking curious.

Myriel cleared his throat, and the room’s attention immediately turned back to him. To the surprise of many, his face was lined with anger. “Some parents see Cosette’s presence here as a problem, and they have asked me to remove her from our school.” Cosette’s breath caught in her throat. She could feel her pulse quickening, and her right hand beginning to shake.

_No, no, no, I’ve already lost Marius – I can’t lose Musain too!_

Behind Myriel, the six parents who had visited his office all looked infuriatingly smug. Enjolras reached for Cosette’s hand, ready both to chain himself to her so they couldn’t throw her out, and attempt to incinerate the smug bastards’ faces with his gaze alone.

Myriel brushed the creases out of his mint green robes. “I’ve thought it over thoroughly,” he continued, “and have come to a decision: the only one possible.” He took a deep breath. “I have no choice but to turn down their request. Cosette will be staying here at Musain.”

Clearly, the parents had been expecting Myriel to agree with them. At the very least, they’d expected a reaction of fear from most of the students at the news she would stay. But the students’ reaction hit them like a ton of bricks: every single teenager in the room stood up and whooped and clapped, cheering joyfully. Philibert’s father angrily wrapped an arm around his wife, getting to his feet and preparing to cause a scene.

“I know you well, my students,” Myriel continued, ignoring the infuriated parentals behind him, “and I trust you. I know you are all brave and smart and will defend our school, and I want you all to know that if any one of you ever finds yourself in danger, we will all be there for you – every one of us.” A small smile crept onto his face. “I know from your reaction alone that you will all stand by Cosette.” He turned to Philibert’s mother and father, and raised an eyebrow. “If some of the parents cannot live with this, I, of course, am powerless to stop them from withdrawing their children from the school.” He stared Philibert’s father down with steely eyes as the man slowly and sheepishly sank back into his seat. “When they are ready to return, we will happily welcome them back.”

“Wait!” Everyone in the room gasped, turning to the person who had spoken – for it was the last person they had expected to protest this. Cosette stood with her shoulders back and her chin up, oozing confidence, but her eyes were full of sorrow.

“I had no idea I was causing so much trouble,” she said sadly. “If my presence is putting Musain in danger… maybe I _should_ leave.” The Amis all gasped, looking horrified, and Enjolras spoke up.

“Come on, ‘Sette, you know how parents are,” he insisted, sounding calm and collected, but inside he was panicking. _Please be joking, please be joking!_ “‘Don’t do this, don’t do that!’ They worry way too much about everything!”

“Yeah,” Courfeyrac added desperately. “Forget about it!”

Cosette forced out one final sad smile. “Thank you, mes Amis,” she said quietly, “but maybe it _would_ be better if I left for a little while.”

“NO!” Enjolras gasped, and Jehan got to their feet, their big green eyes welling with tears.

“No, Cosette,” they said softly. “Don’t leave us!”

“It won’t be forever, Jehan,” Cosette reassured the distraught flower Faery. “Just until things with Tholomyès have calmed down. Actually, I think I might go back to Paris and spend some time with my dad. I’m not really leaving – just taking a little break.”

 

* * *

 

The next day saw Cosette pulling her suitcase down a busy Parisian street, with Wolter sitting in his basket, which was hooked over her other arm. As she dodged a man and a woman with their arms around each other, she looked down at her feet. _Don’t think about him._ But she was too late.

**“Your personality is even more beautiful than your face is, and I… I never stood a chance. I’m sorry I never told you about Céleste, Cosette. The truth is, I forgot she even existed until my grandfather wrote to me that she would be attending the exhibition.”**

_No. I mustn’t let my thoughts stray to him._ She passed two girls holding hands as one carried their tray one-handedly out of a café to an outdoor table, laughing as the drinks nearly overbalanced but unwilling to let go of each other.

**“Cosette, I think you’re wonderful. Will you be my girlfriend? Officially?”**

_Did you ever think I was wonderful, Marius? Or was it always a lie?_

Two teenagers – a boy and a girl – were perched at the edge of the Stravinsky Fountain, and as Cosette passed, the girl leaned over and placed a short, sweet kiss on the boy’s cheek, making him blush pink. She looked away.

**“Maybe all I wanted to do was spend more time with you, because I care about you more than anyone else in the entire universe. Cosette… I love you.”**

She passed an excited crowd outside the Pompidou Centre, and glanced at what they were watching. In the centre, a young man with messy red hair was on one knee, holding a ring out to his boyfriend.

“Marc,” he was saying shyly, “will you marry me?”

Marc’s happy sob was all the answer needed, but Cosette heard him shouting “Yes! A thousand times yes!” as she turned the corner onto Rue Rambuteau. It was wonderful, really – but she couldn’t help but remember how she’d wondered what Marius’ surprise for her was, and wonder if maybe in another universe, he really had been planning to propose to her.

**“I want them all to meet the girl I want to marry and know how important she is to me.”**

She hurriedly turned onto Rue des Archives, and hurried up the steps of number 44, ignoring the tiny crack that ran the length of the pavement – a reminder of the night she’d first met him – the night she’d first learned she was a Faery.

She almost wished it had never happened.

 

* * *

 

“Hot cocoa for my Coco?”

Cosette looked up from where she was curled up on the couch to see her dad holding two large cups of hot chocolate, and took one with a tired smile. “Merci, Papa.”

Valjean sat down next to her and sipped from his own cup. “I know you don’t want to hear it,” he said after a moment, “but maybe you and Marius should talk to each other and figure things out.”

Cosette shook her head. “Marius loves Céleste.” She spat the names out like they were poison. “He’s always loved her, and he always will. He was lying to me for three years. He lied to me when he met me, and just kept lying more and more until Saturday – when all the truth came out. There’s nothing else to figure out – it’s all pretty clear.”

“But knowing why he did it might help you feel better,” Valjean said softly. “If he’s the same Marius who saved you from Lord Méchant’s control, then something very serious must have happened to make him change so much. You never know, Chou – maybe Marius is the one who needs _your_ help.” Cosette gave a non-committal hum, and Valjean’s voice became stern. “Don’t ever lose faith in yourself, Cosette. Marius needs to explain why he’s behaved like this. He owes you that much at least.” His voice turned teasing. “And if you talk to him and he’s still a jerk, I’ll teach him a lesson he won’t soon forget.”

Cosette finished her drink and leaned against her dad with a sigh. “Thank you, Papa. I love you.”

“I love you too, Chou.”

 

* * *

 

“I haven’t heard from Grantaire since we left Eraklyon,” Enjolras said worriedly. He was pacing backwards and forwards next to the window, while Éponine, Jehan and Courfeyrac watched. “What could he be doing that doesn’t give him enough time to even text? Is too much to ask that every once in a while your boyfriend sends you at least a smiley face?” He dropped his phone onto the table in frustration. “He’s not picking up when I call him. He sometimes gets distracted with schoolwork or painting or reading, but never for this long, and he usually texts me. I’m really worried –”

His phone rang a second later, and Enjolras hurriedly grabbed it and picked up. “Grantaire!”

“You called?”

“Yeah! I haven’t heard from you in nearly a month!”

“I’m on Eraklyon,” Grantaire explained. “I tried to talk to him, and I think I have an idea of what happened – but I need more information.” Even with the volume up full, he still sounded quiet and furtive. “I have to go now, Enj, I don’t have much time –”

“Wait! What information? What happened? What’s your idea?!”

“Just be patient,” Grantaire replied. “Love you.” The line cut off, and Enjolras was left staring at his phone in irritation.

“Oh, come on!”

 

* * *

 

Grantaire hadn’t been lying when he said he’d have to go; a Royal Assembly had been called, which was like a school assembly but with the royal family on a balcony instead of teachers at the front of the room and citizens standing and looking up at them instead of students on benches. And Grantaire doubted this announcement was going to have much to do with schoolwork, but hopefully it would confirm his theory. Prince Marius, King Gillenormand and Princess Ophélie were already out on the balcony, but the trumpets sounded again, and the royal family turned to the fourth person exiting the palace.

“Presenting: Duchess Céleste of Iris!”

Grantaire grit his teeth angrily as Céleste draped herself over Marius’ arm, like a frilly pink octopus. He’d never been a fan of her, even before she indirectly hurt his friend – but Grantaire had a theory that it might have been less indirect than most people thought…

King Gillenormand looked delighted, if a bit baffled, as he made his announcement. “Citizens of Eraklyon, I am delighted to announce my grandson’s engagement!”

As the crowd broke out cheering, Marius smiled soppily down at Céleste’s demurely delighted expression. “We haven’t been dating very long,” he smiled, “but we just couldn’t wait to share our happy news with all of you!”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. This proved Marius hadn’t been seeing Céleste behind Cosette’s back. And that glint in Céleste’s eyes… that supported his other theory.

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe this,” Enjolras groaned as he watched the newsclip on Courfeyrac’s laptop. “They really got engaged.”

“Everyone’s talking about it,” Courfeyrac sighed, closing the tab. “Someone’s got to tell Cosette before she reads it in some shady gossip article.”

“She’ll be totally devastated,” Enjolras said miserably. “I don’t want to tell her… but she’s my best friend, so I have to.”

 

* * *

 

Jean Valjean got quite the surprise when the air in front of him warped and glowed golden while he was doing the hoovering, but he recognised the magic quickly. “Enjolras, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Hi, Monsieur Valjean,” Enjolras smiled. Valjean curiously noted that he didn’t have his sceptre, but seemed perfectly capable of teleporting without it all of a sudden.

“Oh, Enjolras, you lived here for five weeks this summer. I insist you call me Jean.”

“Alright… Jean,” Enjolras said, nodding awkwardly. “Sorry to drop in on you like this, but I’ve just been so worried about Cosette.”

Valjean nodded sadly. “Me too. She’s up in her room.”

Cosette was sitting at her desk in front of a blank piece of paper, aimlessly doodling spirals when her dad poked his head around the door. “Cosette?” he said quietly. “You have a guest.”

Cosette didn’t look up when Enjolras entered the room. “Hey Cosette.”

“Hey.” She sounded so… _broken_ , and suddenly Enjolras loathed himself for what he was about to do.

“Cosette, I wanted to…” he started, but then stopped. That didn’t feel right. Instead, he knelt next to her desk chair and placed a hand next to hers on the desk.

“Cosette… something happened.”

 

* * *

 

Valjean insisted he stay over that night, that it was far too late for teleporting back to other dimensions. Enjolras slept on a campbed in Cosette’s room. She didn’t make a sound next to him, but the few times he woke up, her eyes were wide open, the dim moonlight glinting off the tears that silently tracked down her cheeks.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, however, there was a change. Enjolras had noticed the day before that her eyes seemed dull and lifeless, but today they were once again full of that familiar determined spark. She was carrying herself more upright too, and there was a firm set to her jaw.

“I’m going back to Magix,” she announced over breakfast. “Then I’m going to Eraklyon, and I’m going to confront Marius – and Céleste if I have to. If Marius is breaking up with me, I want to know why – and I want to hear it from him.”

“That’s my girl,” Enjolras muttered proudly. Valjean was bubbling with pride himself.

“You know what, Coco? That Marius may be a prince with a royal army, but if I were him I’d be more than a little worried.”

 

* * *

 

Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan were waiting at the wing-shaped gates, and all three began madly jumping up and down as Cosette and Enjolras came into view. As soon as hugs and greetings were out of the way, Éponine asked the question on everybody’s mind: “So, when do we go to Eraklyon?”

“As soon as possible,” Cosette replied. “I want answers, and I want them fast.”

“There’s only one problem, though,” Courfeyrac said worriedly. “Even if we left right now, we’d have to go through the protective barrier to get back in – and it’s activated at eight pm sharp.”

“We’d never get back in time,” Jehan groaned, and Courfeyrac nodded.

“Luckily, Abby and I have been modifying the Wormhole Turtle. With the right programming, it can now create a nice little hole in the shield so you can fly right in with no problem.”

“Cool,” Enjolras said nervously. “Are you sure it works?”

“We’ll just have to find out when we get back,” Cosette decided. “We need to leave now.”

“Bahorel’s going to fly us in on the Owl,” Éponine explained. “Then he’ll cause a distraction so we can sneak into the palace.”

“And I’ll be standing by to open a hole for you guys to get back in,” Courfeyrac added. “I really wish I could come with you, but I think I’ll be more effective here.”

“What would we do without you, Courf?” Cosette smiled.

“Chetta’s still on Andros, so it’s just the four of us going,” Jehan added. “Let’s do this, mes Amis.”

 

* * *

 

The first barrier they met was neither magical nor armed – it was just really, really scary. “Going out for a picnic?” Javert asked, adjusting his monocle.

Jehan and Éponine held up the picnic baskets with wide smiles, and Enjolras nodded, hefting the picnic blanket over to Cosette.

“Yep!” he said cheerfully. “Got plenty of sandwiches and juice and hot chocolate…”

Javert nodded. “Well, don’t stay out too late. The shield goes up at eight pm sharp, remember. If you miss the curfew, you’ll spend the night in the woods.”

It was at this moment Bahorel chose to land the Owl next to the gates, and the Amis hurried towards it. Bahorel opened the door and leaned against the doorway as the ramp extended. “So, you guys ready to rock-n-roll?”

Javert raised the eyebrow that wasn’t holding his monocle in place. “You’re _flying_ to a _picnic?_ Might I ask _where_ you’re planning to go?”

“Not too far,” Enjolras said awkwardly. “We’ll just find a nice picnicky spot somewhere.”

Luckily, Javert seemed to buy it, and soon they were headed for Planet Eraklyon.

“So riddle me this,” Bahorel mused as he steered. “How did I end up being the driver for this mission?”

Éponine raised an eyebrow. “Maybe because I asked you to?” she said sarcastically.

“Or maybe,” Bahorel grinned, “it’s because I like a good challenge.” He glanced over at Cosette, who was sitting next to where Jehan was navigating. “Cosette… just… be prepared, and don’t get your hopes up, OK? Marius might not wanna see you, and there’s nothing you can do about that.”

Cosette scowled at him. “You sound like you’re taking his side.”

Bahorel shook his head. “I’m just being realistic.” His voice softened. “You can’t always get someone to love you, and you can’t always get an explanation. I won’t claim to understand his reasoning… but I know what it’s like to be hurt by someone you care about.”

 

* * *

 

“No, no, NO!” Céleste whined. Marius looked up from where he was trying on a stylish white suit in front of a mirror.

“What’s wrong, my darling?”

“This style of jacket is all wrong for an engagement party!” Céleste raged. The tailor cleared his throat.

“But, your grace, it was you who chose the style of the suit just yesterday!”

“Yes,” Céleste rolled her eyes, “but that was yesterday. Today is today, and today I don’t like it! This party’s important, and Marius needs to look perfect – right, sweetie?”

Marius nodded, smiling cheerfully. “Yes. It needs to look perfect – whatever you want, dear.”

Céleste smirked as the tailor groaned. “It will be _unforgettable_ ,” she sighed.

A second later, she jumped and nearly tripped over her dress as five guards rushed into the room. “What’s happening?!”

“The palace is on high alert!” a guard explained. “An unauthorised aircraft is attempting to land on the grounds. For your safety, you and the prince must come with us.”

Céleste nodded and immediately followed the guards, but Marius didn’t move, gazing out the window with a frown as the sleek red airship landed – on the garden path right outside the window. “That’s a ship from Corinthe,” he muttered. “What is it doing here?”

 

* * *

 

Cosette, Jehan, Enjolras and Éponine crouched in the bushes next to the ship, and waited until all six of the guards dispatched to examine the ship had hurried on board through the open door. As soon as they were out of sight, Cosette nodded.

“Come on, mes Amis. Let’s move.” They hurried through the side door the guards had just left, keeping low and out of sight of the windows.

The head guard approached the driver of the ship, who had his feet up on the dashboard and was lazily flicking through a battered copy of _Chicken Soup For The Soul._ He looked up as the guard put a hand on the back of his chair, and raised his magenta eyebrows.

“Let me guess,” he drawled, his dark eyes twinkling mischievously. “This is a no-parking zone.”

 

* * *

 

The Amis stuck close to the wall, and Cosette in the lead carefully peered around the corners before they moved. She was forced to hurriedly duck back as a squadron of guards passed at the other end of the corridor they’d been about to cross, and they all waited with bated breath until the guards’ footsteps faded. Ducking across the hall, they hurried towards the only open door they could see, which led into a room painted white.

To their shock, it wasn’t empty. Marius himself was standing with his back to them, frowning out of the window. He wore a smart white suit, looking as handsome as ever, and Cosette sighed as she stepped into the room.

“Marius? Can I talk to you?”

Marius spun around, and his face went from shocked to a mixture of angry and scared in a millisecond. “I don’t know how you got in here, but you need to leave _now!”_

“Please,” Cosette begged. “I need to talk to you. I need to know what happened. You said you loved me, and I believed you – but now I don’t know _what_ to think! Please, I need answers!”

“It’s plain and simple, Cosette,” Marius said coldly. “I’ve _always_ loved Céleste!” He raised his hand, summoning a sword of blue flames. “And I don’t want to hear any more, _you Witch!”_

Cosette gasped, backing away.

“This must never happen again!” a voice raged outside the door. The Amis all turned in horror as they recognised Céleste’s whining voice. “How dare you interrupt a royal fitting for no good reason – I don’t care about your excuses! You should know the difference between real danger and a false alarm –”

The door swung open, and Céleste found herself face to face with four teenagers who in her book constituted _very_ real danger.

“Les Amis?!”

“We came to congratulate you on your engagement?” Éponine tried.

No use. “Guards!” Céleste shrieked. “Seize them!”

The guards started forwards, but Jehan shook their head with a smirk. “Uh-uh, I don’t think so.” They wiggled their fingers at a potted plant in one corner of the room, and the roots immediately grew and wiggled across the floor, tripping up all five guards. “Watch your step!” And with that, the Amis sprinted out of the other door, which conveniently enough led right back to the main corridor.

“Get up, you buffoons!” Céleste screamed. “Stop them!”

The Amis charged down the hallway, but suddenly someone reached out from a side corridor and yanked Enjolras into it. He was about to scream bloody murder and curse the poor sucker into next Friday, when they spoke and made him stop dead.

“Hey there stranger, you look familiar.”

The familiar voice, with its warm cadence and teasing tone, was unmistakeable.

“Grantaire!”

Grantaire pulled Enjolras into a hug just as Jehan, Cosette and Éponine hurried into the corridor to see where their friend had gone. They all looked relieved at the sight of the Wizard.

“I was gonna call you tonight,” Grantaire grinned, “but here you are.” His tone turned serious. “I’ve been trying to talk to Marius, but Céleste won’t leave him alone – even for a minute! And it got me thinking –” a guard burst into the corridor, holding a sword that seemed to be made of lava, and Grantaire immediately shoved the Faeries further down the corridor.

“Go!” he yelled, raising his hand and forming his water broadsword. Enjolras made a pained noise.

“Grantaire, be careful!”

“Don’t worry about me, Apollo,” Grantaire called back with a wink. “I’ll be fine.”

Cosette grabbed Enjolras’ wrist and yanked him down the corridor, the same way he’d pulled her through the garden just a week ago. They entered the only room there was: a hall with humungous suits of armour down the sides, each wielding a gigantic steel battle-axe – a reminder of a thousand years ago before Wizards knew how to shape magic into weapons. They paused to breathe – and immediately wished they hadn’t.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

They turned to see Marius smirking down at them from a balcony, the sword still glowing in his hand. He must have followed them from a floor up. Marius jumped down to stand between them and the exit, twirling the sword lazily. “You might have found it easy to get in, but you’ll find it a hell of a lot harder to get out!”

Enjolras immediately stepped forwards between Marius and his friends. “Sorry, buddy, but you asked for it,” he said coolly. “Enjolras Enchantix!”

Like Musichetta’s had, his new form appeared in a swirl of colour – red, gold and black. His now enormous wings seemed to unnerve Marius a little. The two princes faced off with each other for a brief moment, before Marius raised his sword and slashed wildly at Enjolras, who took off, dodging easily.

“Magic Rainbow!”

A swirl of coloured light surrounded Marius, forcing him to kneel on the ground, but he forced the spell off seemingly out of pure rage. “Is that the best you can do?” he snarled, before swiping at Cosette with the sword. She gasped and dodged, finding herself tripping backwards between two giant suits of armour. Marius turned and jabbed at Éponine, forcing her backwards. His second jab knocked down the battle-axe of the suit next to her, and it cracked the floor with a horrid crunching noise. Éponine screamed in fear as he wound back for the killing blow, but suddenly Enjolras knocked him off his feet with a ball of golden light that sent Marius flying into another suit of armour across the corridor.

Cosette got to her feet again. “Look, Marius,” she said desperately. “I don’t want to fight you. I just want to talk to you! If you truly love Céleste, then I’ll get out of your life –”

Marius got to his feet with a snarl. “You’re already out of my life!” he screamed as he rushed towards her, raising his sword again.

“That’s enough!” Enjolras growled, blasting him again. Marius was knocked into a second suit of armour, which smashed. The sharp edge of the old breastplate caught his expensive-looking suit, tearing the collar down so his neck and shoulder were exposed – and the Amis all gasped.

There, raised, red and raw on his neck, was the mark of Félix Tholomyès.

“He’s under Tholomyès’ control!” Cosette realised. “None of this is his fault! Guys, transform! Amis Charmix!”

She, Jehan and Éponine all transformed, and Éponine quickly fluttered into the air to avoid the sword – even though it didn’t look like the dazed prince would be getting up any time soon. “It all makes sense now,” she said thoughtfully. “Only a super powerful curse can change your personality.”

“And I think we all know who put the spell on him,” Jehan added. “It had to be Céleste.”

“Don't you _dare_ slander her name!” Marius growled from the floor. Éponine ignored him.

“We can’t fight him; we need to break the spell – with Faery Dust.”

“You’re in luck, then,” Enjolras grinned. “Relax, guys – I got this.” He fluttered down to hover at Marius’ feet. The prince of Eraklyon cringed away from him.

“No! What are you doing?!”

Enjolras reached for the little star-shaped bottle around his neck, and as it came loose, the cork popped out. He drew a star in the air, and silver dust settled over Marius. He screamed as it came in contact with him, apparently in terrible agony, but suddenly fell silent as the Dust faded from view. Cosette immediately flew to his side.

“Marius! Are you OK? Can you hear me?”

“Tholomyès’ mark is gone!” Éponine pointed out, and indeed, the boy’s neck was completely free of anything even vaguely resembling the mark. Marius’ eyelids fluttered, and Cosette reached to gently touch his cheek, but suddenly an all-too-familiar screech rang through the hall.

“There they are, guards! ARREST THEM!”

Éponine winced. “Time for us to hit the road, lads.” They flew out of the conveniently open window just as Céleste dashed into the room, followed by several confused-looking guards.

Bahorel was waiting next to the ship, and waved them down towards it. “Let’s go!”

As the Owl rose up and disappeared over the horizon, Céleste glared out the window, cursing whoever had left it open. _You haven’t seen the last of me, Cosette._

 

* * *

 

On a balcony about twenty feet away, Grantaire dived through another window. Unfortunately, this one hadn’t been open, and the glass shattered everywhere. He caught sight of the disappearing Owl just as ten guards climbed out after him, and allowed his sword to vanish. “Just kidding,” he laughed nervously. “I surrender.”

He found himself with about twenty swords far too close to his face for comfort.

 

* * *

 

Javert checked his pocketwatch before tucking it into his pocket. “Eight o’clock sharp, not a moment later,” he barked. “The protective shield can come up now.”

Hundreds of glowing dots rose into the air, surrounding the school in a dome. Lines began to form between them like a spiderweb, and the transparent blue barrier flickered into existence.

 

* * *

 

“I really hope Marius can finally break free of Céleste’s spell now,” Cosette sighed as the ship zoomed over Lake Roccaluce. Enjolras nodded.

“And I really hope Grantaire made it out OK.” His tanned skin was unusually pale. “If something happened… and he got hurt… I’d never forgive myself.”

“OK, we’ll be approaching Musain soon!” Bahorel said. “Someone should let Courfeyrac know –”

“On it,” Jehan said immediately. Courfeyrac answered their video call almost immediately. “Courf, we’re nearly there! Get ready to let us in!”

“OK, guys, listen to me carefully,” Courfeyrac said seriously. “Abby has placed the Barrier Buster at the very top of the shield. The hole will be there for just a few seconds. Don't miss the target – you only get one chance.” He glanced at something off-screen. “It’s activated. The hole opens in precisely twenty-seven seconds.”

“OK,” Bahorel said. “Get ready to fly out in three…” the doors slid open, “two…” the Faeries lined up, “one! Get home safe!”

Like parachutists, all four Faeries jumped through the door and glided towards the top of the barrier on their wings. The hole was visible only by the fact that the moon didn’t glint off it, and they zoomed through it, first Enjolras, then Jehan, Éponine and finally Cosette – but they were too late. The hole closed on Cosette’s ankles.

She clumsily landed face-first on the ground just as magical floodlights lit up the courtyard. Her friends hurried to help her up, and Éponine groaned quietly.

“I think we just got caught.”

“Welcome back,” Javert said coldly, emerging from the main doors. “Congratulations on your little stunt. By tampering with the shield, you have weakened it – and for that you are going to be _severely_ punished.”

“I’m so sorry, Professor,” Cosette said miserably. “This one was all my fault.”

Javert tutted, although he looked a little less stern – which in his case, meant he felt quite sympathetic. “Go back to your rooms. Tomorrow you’ll talk to the headmaster.”

 

* * *

 

 

A surprise awaited the Amis when they entered their living room: a familiar mass of red curly hair was visible over the back of the armchair with its back to the door. They hurried eagerly into the room to greet Musichetta and regale her with the tale of their second narrow escape from Eraklyon, but they stopped dead upon seeing the state she was in. It was worse than the empty, hollow girl they’d seen when she’d returned from her summer in Andros.

She was sobbing her heart out.

Courfeyrac was sitting next to her on the couch, looking like he didn’t know quite what to do, but as Cosette, Éponine, Enjolras and Jehan poured into the room, he managed a worried face. “I think she had a really tough time on Andros,” he mouthed.

Cosette knelt in front of Musichetta and took her hand. “What happened?” she asked softly. She honestly didn’t think Musichetta would reply, but after a moment she took a great heaving breath and looked up.

“I was always proud to be the princess of Andros,” she began. Her voice was shaking uncontrollably, and her face looked blotchy, as if she’d been crying for hours without end. “But now… everything’s changed! My parents have… sentenced me to an arranged marriage.”

The Amis all gasped in shock, and Musichetta continued, “They’ve picked some guy who I’ve never met for me to marry, and I don’t get a choice. All I know is that his parents are some of the richest people in Andros, his name is Joly, and my life is about to be ruined forever.” She broke down in tears again, and this time, Cosette, Éponine, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Enjolras all cried with her.

The day had finally come when they were presented with a cruelty they couldn’t magic their way out of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Musichetta's parents would normally have waited until she was 19 to discuss her marriage options, but since Andros has come off the worst of the attacked planets, they want to ensure her future, even if it's one she doesn't want.


	10. In Which Flower Faeries Have A Unique Distress Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tholomyès decides that living underground isn't suiting him, and turns to Patron-Dinette, who give him an idea for revenge...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to my Uncle Phillip, who will probably never read it but would have appreciated the fart joke towards the end.

“The best way to counter a sound wave attack,” Professor Wizgiz was saying, “is to transfigure your head into that of an earless creature – for example, the Androssian Monkeyfish.” With a click of his fingers, his head was bright pink, with a wide, toothless mouth and fins protruding from behind his sideburns. The entire class applauded – except one.

Enjolras sat in the back row staring worriedly out the window, not really taking in anything that was being said. He didn’t even notice the class laughing around him as Wizgiz proceeded to transfigure the rest of his body to match: squat with four arm-like legs like a monkey’s, but bright pink with scales instead of fur. Even when Wizgiz announced that they were dismissed, Enjolras walked to the door like a zombie, barely hearing Courfeyrac next to him.

“Glad you kept the sideburns, Professor.”

“Eh? What’s that?” Wizgiz was frowning as best he could without eyebrows. “I can’t hear you!”

Éponine clicked her fingers in front of Enjolras’ face, making him jump. “How are you feeling?” she asked sympathetically.

Enjolras groaned. “Totally stressed out. I haven’t heard a word from Grantaire since we left him on Eraklyon. We should have stayed behind to help him fight those guards, but instead we just left him there…” His lip shook, but he pulled it taught. “I’m really scared that he might be injured… or worse.”

Musichetta appeared on his other side with a tired smile. “I’m sure Grantaire can handle himself. Right now, I’m more worried about you.”

“I think we could all use a little relaxation after what we’ve been through,” Éponine agreed. She turned to Jehan, who was drifting along next to them. “Jehan?”

Jehan smiled. “I got this. I have a collection of over thirty herbal teas – some chamomile and passionflower should have us unwinding in no time.”

 

* * *

 

With the tea poured and a plate of double-chocolate cookies alongside it, their apartment was soon set up for a small tea party. Courfeyrac passed the biscuits around, looking thoughtful.

“You know, if you really think about it,” he smiled, “we should be celebrating. Enjolras managed to break the spell that was on Marius.”

“We don’t know that for sure, Courf,” Cosette said glumly. “We didn’t stay long enough to see whether or not it worked.” She handed Wolter a carrot, and the bunny curled up on her lap to gnaw on it, forcing her to arch away from him to sip her tea.

“And we can’t exactly go back to check,” Jehan added. “The guards won’t let us anywhere near the place.”

“Can’t say I blame them,” Éponine laughed. “After first that party and then our little duel with Marius, I think it’s safe to say we’re not on the VIP guest list.”

“Well, if I get any updated feeds from Eraklyon, I’ll let you know,” Courfeyrac assured them.

Jehan patted Cosette’s shoulder. “Just remember, Tholomyès’ mark disappeared from Marius’ shoulder,” they reminded her. “So just sit back, drink your tea, and relax.”

 

* * *

 

Speaking of Tholomyès, at that moment he was staring out of a viewing portal, watching the Mer-monsters go about their business. “Andros, the water planet – and every drop of it under my supreme command,” he mused to Patron-Minette. A large drip of said water reached the end of the stalactite above his head and glopped down, spattering a wet stain onto his overcoat. “No wonder I feel so washed up,” he grouched, dabbing at it ineffectually. “I think it’s time we moved somewhere where the roof isn’t leaking 24-7.” He turned away from the viewing portal to speak directly to the three Witches. “We need to move up in the world – to a better world. Any suggestions?”

“We could take over Lord Méchant’s old hideout, Shadowhaunt,” Gueulemer suggested, but he was shot down by Claquesous.

“And live underground again?” she shuddered. “No way. I don’t do basement apartments.”

“I agree,” Tholomyès smiled at her. “We need a high floor, with a nice view.”

Babet grinned widely as an idea began taking form in his head. “I know the perfect place,” he smirked. “Full of old-world charm and powerful magic. How about the Votirlu castle?”

“The school for Witches?” Tholomyès said thoughtfully. He turned back to his viewing portal, where an image of the imposing purple structure appeared. “That could work very nicely…” He headed over to where the large X was carved into the wall, and touched the centre of it, ready to open the portal – but suddenly he leapt back, shaking his hand as though stung. “It’s defended by a spell that prevents people entering by portal.” He tutted. “We’ll definitely need to rewire.”

“It already feels like we’re going back home,” Gueulemer laughed. “We had some good times there.”

“Yeah,” Claquesous agreed, “but Headmaster Thénardier will hardly be rolling out the Welcome mat.”

“Thénardier?” Tholomyès turned sharply. A grin was spreading across his face. “He’s headmaster there?”

“And a stuffy one at that,” Babet scowled. “Expelled us for a minor misdemeanour. All we did was transmute his daughter into a pumpkin.” Suddenly, his scowl became a confused frown. “But why does it matter to you?”

Tholomyès continued to smirk. “He’s an old friend of mine,” he explained. “I have… a score to settle with him.” He noticed the wide-eyed, curious looks on the Witches’ faces. “It’s a long story, one I’ll have to tell you someday – but let’s just say, no one lived happily ever after. But who says the story can’t be rewritten?” He touched the portal again, and this time it glowed black. “Come. We’ll enter from the woods next to the school. Maybe work out a nice little surprise for the students… Thénardier is about to have some permanent house guests.”

 

* * *

 

Montparnasse was in a good mood that day. He’d done well in his Advanced Witchcraft class, the cafeteria had been serving his favourite pasta, and the forest had begun turning that lovely reddish-gold colour that signalled the beginning of autumn. He and some of his friends had been considering going into town for coffee, and they were heading out to the steps down to the road when a young fawn of all things came bounding up the bridge!

Ebony, whose powers came from the creatures of the night, was immediately smitten, and Montparnasse couldn’t blame her – it truly was a beautiful animal, with a gleaming tawny coat and dark antlers. They were wondering why it had strayed so close to civilization, when three other animals came bounding up the bridge after it.

Not deer.

Wolves.

A white wolf with jagged fur, who seemed to be the leader of the pack, flanked by a sleek brown wolf and a fluffier black wolf, baring their teeth and snapping their jaws. The fawn was clearly going to be lunch.

“We can’t let them hurt it!” Marilla gasped. She crouched down, clicking her tongue and rubbing her fingers in the fawn’s direction. “Here, little guy! Come with us, we’ll protect you!”

Ebony and Lysander both joined her, and after a moment, so did Montparnasse. The fawn cocked its head, then apparently decided it trusted them and took a few tentative steps forward.

“That’s right,” Leander cooed. “Come on, Mr Fawn! We’ll save you from the wolves!”

The fawn came ever closer, leaning its head towards them. Montparnasse was actually rather beginning to enjoy this rare interaction with nature, when suddenly he felt a tug on his jacket and turned to see Ebony frowning at him.

“Something’s wrong,” she said quietly. Montparnasse rolled his eyes. The fawn moved closer.

“What?” he whispered back irately. The fawn was nearly upon them.

“The wolves aren’t chasing it any more,” Ebony whispered back. “Why are they just letting their prey get away? Why aren’t they going to hunt for something else? Why have they just stopped?”

Montparnasse squinted between the fawn’s legs. Indeed, the three wolves had stopped, and were merely staring at them. If he hadn’t known animals couldn’t smirk, he would have said that was exactly what they were doing.

Smirking in a very, _very_ familiar way.

 _Oh no. We’re in big trouble._ He turned to warn Marilla and Leander, but too late! Marilla was petting the fawn with a happy smile.

“It’s OK, you’re safe now!” she cooed.

“Yeah,” Leander added. “Don’t be afraid!”

To their horror, the fawn’s eyes turned red, and it grinned, showing sharp teeth. “Oh, I’m not afraid,” it smirked. With a crackle of black light, it twisted into the form of a man – a man with blond hair, dressed like a 19th century dandy in a three-piece suit and a wine-red overcoat. “But I think you and your friends should be.”

“What’s happening?” Marilla whimpered.

“Who are you?” Ebony demanded.

“What are you doing here?” Leander yelled.

Montparnasse was too afraid to speak.

The man raised his hands, and the four young Witches flinched away. A second later, the air around them turned dark, and suddenly Montparnasse didn’t know or feel anything at all, except for a terrible burning pain in his neck.

 

* * *

 

 

“A protection spell has its own rules,” Félix Tholomyès purred as he stepped through the door. The four who had let him in followed as if in a trance, while the rest of the students gazed at him blankly with empty, unseeing eyes as his mark began to appear on each of them. “One of those rules is never open the door to your enemy. Once you invite him in, the magic is forever broken.” He turned to the wolves, who followed him through the door. “My dears?”

With flashes of blue, purple and green light, the wolves became the three Witches of Patron-Minette. Tholomyès turned back to the spelled student Witches, tutting. “A good-hearted Witch is doomed to be defeated. Learn your lesson, sweet Witches, and next time you see a fawn, be a wolf.”

 

* * *

 

Headmaster Thénardier was in his study marking essays when he heard the crash in the hallway outside. He got up from his desk and marched to the door, intending to reprimand the culprit (he’d had a sneaking suspicion that someone was planning an ‘amusing joke’ involving the bust of Paracelsus across from his door, the prank most likely involving Paracelsus falling on someone’s head. Subtlety was not the strong point for most Witches), but to his surprise, the bust was untouched. There was no one in the corridor at all.

He turned to go back to his desk, but to his shock there was already someone sitting at it – someone he recognised very, very well.

“Nice to see you again, old friend,” Félix Tholomyès grinned. “It’s been way too long.”

“Don’t you dare call me your friend!” Headmaster Thénardier snarled. He raised a hand that was glowing with red light, but Tholomyès beat him to it, his spell sending the Witch flying backwards into the wall, leaving a decent-sized dent.

“Don’t try to use your magic against me, Thénardier,” Tholomyès purred, as casually as if he really was sitting down to tea with an old friend. “It’s useless.” He got up and walked around to crouch over the Headmaster’s aching body. “During my exile in the Omega Dimension, I became stronger and more powerful than ever.”

Thénardier gazed back with hatred etched in every line of his face. “This is _my_ school, Tholomyès,” he hissed, clawing his way into a crouch. “Get out of here!”

Tholomyès smirked, raising his right hand. With a bang like a gunshot and a flash of black light, Thénardier collapsed unconscious on the floor.

“Sorry, Thénardier,” he chuckled, “but _I_ give the orders at Votirlu now.”

 

* * *

 

The cafeteria doors swung open, and the Witches who hadn’t been caught in the initial mind-control spell turned in shock as Patron-Minette marched into the room. At the top table, Professors Viridium and Zarathustra shot to their feet.

“Vhat are you doeeng here?” Viridium snarled. “You vere all expelled more zan a year ago!”

Babet smirked wickedly. “Let’s just say we pulled some strings to get back in,” he drawled, before he and his cousins stepped aside to reveal Tholomyès.

“Félix Tholomyès!” Zarathustra gasped.

Tholomyès grinned. “I see my reputation proceeds me. Thénardier is my prisoner. I’m your new headmaster – and I do mean master.” He clapped his hands, and the hypnotized Witches began filing into the room, all with Tholomyès’ mark stark and red on their necks. The students and teachers alike gasped in terror. “And it’s time for the first mark of the year – the mark of Félix Tholomyès!”

Every window in the entire cafeteria structure was lit up with black light as the dark clouds began to form above the castle.

 

* * *

 

Thénardier awoke in a tiny prison cell in the attack, and looked up to see Tholomyès and Patron-Minette standing over him. “Votirlu is mine now,” Tholomyès smirked, “and so are all of its secrets. The taste of victory is sweet, old friend.”

“You will pay for this, Tholomyès,” Thénardier spat. He glared at Patron-Minette, who smirked back. “And you three traitors will get what you deserve!”

“Yeah,” Gueulemer sneered. “Like, say, total control of this school and you in prison?”

Tholomyès laughed softly. “They’re traitors just like you were, Thénardier.”

Thénardier blanched. “I am no traitor!”

“Oh, really?” Tholomyès raised his eyebrows. “Weren’t we once fighting side by side, under the command of the three Ancestors – the Mothers of all Witches?” His smirk grew wider. “Together we studied the Dark Arts so we could rule with fear – we were going to conquer all the realms of the Magical Universe.” Suddenly, his voice became cold and furious. “It was all going so well, until your precious Meredith came into the picture, and you turned on me to join our worst enemies – the Company of Light, the enemies who would one day defeat me!”

“I have no regrets!” Thénardier snarled. “I followed my conscience and tried to make up for past mistakes –”

“The only mistake you made,” Tholomyès interrupted, voice once again smooth and velvety as ever, “was betraying me – and for that you will be locked away for eternity.” Patron-Minette smirked and left the dungeon, and Tholomyès made to follow them, but he stopped in the doorway and glanced back. “You were the first to fall, but will not be the last,” he informed Thénardier. “I’m going to go after the others now, and I will stop at nothing until what remains of the Company of Light is extinguished forever!” He raised his hands, and glowing black bars appeared in the doorway, sealing Thénardier in. Thénardier immediately pulled himself up and rushed at the bars, but was thrown back against the hard stone wall when he tried to touch them. Tholomyès grinned sadistically.

“Let’s see,” he said quietly. “The nine Nymphs are all either dead or insane, and the would-be king and queen of Eraklyon are busy pushing up daisies. I’ve already had my revenge on Nicolas and Terredor, which leaves… let’s see… oh, yes. Lamarque, Wizgiz, and Myriel. And luckily, I’m pretty sure I can find two of them in one place…”

 

* * *

 

Myriel gazed up at the sky from the battlements as black clouds began drifting towards Musain from Votirlu’s direction, pondering the sudden change in weather. _Wizgiz didn’t forecast a storm… and I’ve not seen clouds so dark since the War. I’d better activate the protective shield._

The students in the courtyard had been preparing to run for cover from the rain, but the sparkling dome appeared above them seconds later, the raindrops plinking harmlessly off it. Less harmless, though, were the black clouds that had begun to swirl above the school. Bright green lightening began crashing down from them, it too bouncing off the barrier, and Myriel’s eyes widened as he watched.

_I knew this was no ordinary storm._

Green lightning was scary enough, especially to the third years and the teachers who remembered the Battle of Musain. But what made this storm really frightening was the bodies.

As the third crack of lightning hit, bodies began to float down en masse from the heavens, and as they got closer, the students recognised that they were not floating, but flying. They were the student Witches of Votirlu. And they were all blasting the barrier with the green lightning.

“I knew this storm wasn’t normal,” Myriel muttered. He turned around as Wizgiz and Palladium spilled out of the trapdoor, both looking panicked.

“Headmaster –” Wizgiz began, panting for breath.

“Cursed lightning,” Myriel said while the leprechaun tried to get his breath under control. “I was right. I know Félix Tholomyès is behind this. Look at their necks – I’d recognise that mark anywhere. That brand is his signature.”

A particularly harsh bolt of lightning hit the dome at its weakest point: the place the Amis had used to get back into the school the week before. A small hole began to appear, and it was widening rapidly. Myriel forced his gaze away from it.

“Round up the students,” he said urgently. “Tell them to prepare for battle and that this is not a drill. This is serious.”

As if to underline his point, another lightning bolt hit the roof behind the Headmaster, sending him flying forwards as the stone exploded.

“Myriel!” Wizgiz gasped. He hurried forwards, but Myriel was already getting to his feet.

“Gather the Faeries and wait for my signal,” he instructed. The two teachers both nodded, and hurried back down the trapdoor just as the dome exploded into tiny fragments of light. The first line of defence was gone.

A final bolt of lightning struck the ground in the centre of the courtyard, but it hadn’t come from the Witches – who, indeed, had stopped blasting and were now hovering motionless in the air. No, this had come from somewhere in the clouds – and now a hole was appearing amid the darkness, and someone was floating down from the hole…

“Tholomyès!” Myriel yelled. Félix Tholomyès noticed him, and changed his trajectory so he landed on the battlements next to Myriel.

“We meet again, Myriel,” the Warlock drawled. “And hey, whaddaya know? This time your friends from the Company of Light aren’t here to back you up.”

“You’ve enslaved innocent teenagers,” Myriel snarled. “You’ve bewitched the students of Votirlu!”

Tholomyès merely chuckled. “I’ve often been told how bewitching I am. And with the help of these Witches, I’m going to take all the secret spells and powerful potions you’re hiding in this little school of yours, and use them to become what I once was!” He raised his hands, which were glowing with black light. “The most powerful Warlock in the Magical Universe!”

The black light shot towards Myriel, who summoned a golden shield that absorbed the curse. “Not on my watch!” the old Faery yelled. He took to the air without the help of wings, and Tholomyès followed him with a grin. “And not under my roof!”

The two began blasting spells at each other dodging and ducking in mid-air, creating what looked to the student Faeries like a multi-coloured fireworks display. They all watched in awe – none of them had ever seen Myriel fight like that before.

Suddenly, Tholomyès changed tactics, forming a ball of light around both of them. “It’s been a _blast,_ Myriel,” he quipped with a sneer. “Thanks for _everything!”_ With a tremendous bang, the ball of light disappeared – and Myriel and Tholomyès disappeared with it.

 

* * *

 

In a newly formed crater in the middle of a forest clearing, Myriel got to his feet, shielding his eyes from the smoke that was spiralling off the singed trees around him. _Where is he?_ he wondered, but a second later, that question became irrelevant. The ground beneath his feet glowed red, and with mounting horror Myriel realised he was standing atop a giant glowing mark – Tholomyès’ mark. He tried to take off, but the ground suddenly warped, and the dirt itself began spiralling up around him, pulling him down to become part of it…

Tholomyès landed next to the spot where his adversary had disappeared, chuckling. “Seventeen years ago, you would never have let anyone defeat you,” he sneered. “You’re losing your touch, old man –”

The ground in front of him exploded, and Myriel rose into the air. There was a burning fury in his eyes that left Tholomyès a tad unnerved. “Really?” he growled. Too late, Tholomyès realised his hands were glowing lilac. “I doubt that very much, _Félix!”_

Tholomyès was sent flying upwards and backwards, falling through tree branches that snagged his clothes and scratched his face relentlessly, until he landed hard on the ground. He flew back into the air with a snarl, heading for Myriel.

“Thénardier has fallen, and so will you!” he growled, preparing to cast a curse. Myriel glared back, his own hands glowing as he prepared a counter-curse.

“Thénardier will rise again,” he said coldly, “and I’ll stand by his side.”

Tholomyès raised his hands, and to Myriel’s horror there was a curse burning in each of them. The first collided with his counter-curse. The second hit him square in the chest. He didn’t even have time to yell in shock.

 

* * *

 

The Witches had begun blasting cursed lightning at the Faeries again, only this time, the Faeries had begun transforming to fight back. As the Amis raced out to join the battle, the air was full of coloured sparks.

“Let’s teach these Witches a lesson!” Cosette shouted. “Amis Charmix!”

With a flash, she, Courfeyrac, Éponine and Jehan all transformed, while Enjolras and Musichetta stood back to back with identical smirks on their faces.

“Ready, Chetta?”

“Ready, Enj.”

“Amis Enchantix!” they chorused. With a swirl of colour, they transformed too, and the battle was on.

“Firewall!” Cosette yelled, and a flaming golden shield appeared on her arm, absorbing the cursed lightning. Next to her, Éponine flew higher, dodging between blasts.

“Sonic Bomb!” she shouted, and a powerful sound wave knocked three of the Witches backwards.

Jehan blew a handful of glittering golden dust at the ground with a cry of “Golden Pollen!” Immediately, enormous vines sprung from the earth and wrapped around four more Witches, pulling them down and forming cocoons around them. Courfeyrac took another two Witches out with a well-aimed Mental Puzzle, while next to the Amis, Azelma and some of her friends knocked out another three. Meanwhile, Enjolras and Musichetta raised their arms in perfect synchronicity.

“Convergence!” they chorused. “Moontide Shield!”

With a flash of pink and gold light, the Witches were forced back away from the castle, dropping to the grass in defeat. As the spell cleared, there was another flash – this one scarlet, and coming from somewhere in the middle of the forest. It was accompanied by a bang like a cannon.

“It must be Myriel and Tholomyès,” Enjolras realised. Musichetta nodded, immediately changing direction to head for the place the blast had come from, and Enjolras immediately grabbed the edge of her wing. “Where are you going?”

“Someone’s got to do something to help him! We can’t let him fight Tholomyès alone!” Musichetta insisted, but Enjolras shook his head.

“ _We_ have to defend Musain. Myriel can handle himself.”

From the direction of the woods came another bang – only this one’s accompanying light show was so bright that all the Faeries were forced to cover their eyes. A shockwave from the blast sent them all flying a few feet backwards in mid-air.

“What do you think happened?” Musichetta said nervously, but she was answered by a very familiar cackle.

“Félix finished old Headmaster Myriel off,” Babet smirked. Behind him, Claquesous and Gueulemer chuckled wickedly as the downed Witches began to fly back into the air, recovered. “Just like we’re going to do to you!”

“Don’t scatter!” Javert barked at the students over Patron-Minette’s deranged laughter. “Stay close together, and remember who you are: Faeries! And Faeries don’t fear Witches! First and Third Years, keep holding them off – except you eight, wait here! Second Years, go with Palladium!”

“Spread out around the school perimeter,” Palladium instructed. “We’re going to create a new barrier!”

As the Second Years headed after Palladium, and the First Years took to the air, Javert turned to the remaining Third and First Years. “All of you, patrol the corridors. We can’t let any of them find any of our magical secrets!”

 

* * *

 

Up on the battlement, Palladium chanted under his breath, “Magia mystérium, propagationem atque fluxus. Misit tenebras tergo impetum propulsare. Prædictas Fatales malo defendat, et deprehendere!”

As the Second Year Faeries took up their places around the school’s boundaries, they began projecting pure energy into the air. It swam between the attacking Witches and the defending Faeries and formed a ball in front of Palladium. As soon as it was big enough, he flung it into the air.

This time, a golden dome began to form around the school, rising up from the ground. As the student Witches were forced back, Patron-Minette sneered at the spell.

“Another barrier,” Gueulemer rolled his eyes.

“Been there, seen that,” Claquesous agreed. She clapped her hands, and with a flash of violet light, the three of them slipped under the barrier just before it closed, zooming through the shadows directly into an upstairs corridor.

 

* * *

 

As the Second Years got to their feet with a cheer, Palladium shouted over them, “Everybody, hold your positions! We must continue to energise the shield if we want to keep the Witches at bay!” Indeed, the student Witches were beginning to blast at the new barrier, and the Faeries hurriedly focussed on Strength, Endurance and Protection. Azelma glanced up to check on the shield, but to her horror, she recognised one of the Witches all too well.

“Montparnasse!” she gasped. “No!”

Montparnasse continued to blast at the barrier, staring straight ahead with unseeing eyes.

 

* * *

 

Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer rematerialized and glanced around. It really had been too long since they’d sneaked into Musain for a bit of evil-doing. Luckily, the corridor they’d chosen was completely deserted.

“The attack on the shield will keep those ridiculous Faeries busy,” Babet grinned. Claquesous nodded.

“While we steal their magic secrets and spells,” she added with a smirk. “They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

 

* * *

 

“OK,” Cosette decided. “We can’t let any of the Witches gain entry to the school, so I think it would be best if we divided into two groups to patrol a wing of the castle.”

“Third Years take the right wing while First Years take the left?” one of the First Years, a boy named Arlo suggested. The Third Years (Cosette, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine) would have objected, but the First Years all nodded and took off up the stairs, turning left. Cosette sighed, and the Amis took off in the opposite direction.

 

* * *

 

When the First Years reached the dormitory wing, Annilee took charge. “Let’s head down the dorm corridor and then downstairs to the classrooms,” she said. Arlo and the other boy, Marty, agreed with her, and headed off down the corridor. Zeena was about to follow them when she caught a glimpse of a flash of light out of the corner of her eye – down the corridor that led to the first set of stairs.

“What was that?” she muttered – and then she did something that was either very smart or very stupid: she took off after it on her own. This was a very smart move, because Arlo and Annilee would both have made so much noise trying to boss herself and Marty about, the thing that emitted the light would have surely heard them coming.

It was a very stupid move, because it is always a very stupid move to go off on your own if you don’t know what you are facing.

Zeena headed down the corridor, turned right after the light, and stopped dead. “How did you get past our defences?” she whispered in shock.

Claquesous rolled her eyes. “Catching a Faery is so easy,” she drawled. “I’m almost bored.”

Zeena shook her shock off and drew herself up to her full height. “I, Zeena Prouvaire of Lynphea, order you to surrender!”

“Oh, I’m so scared,” Gueulemer sneered. “Should I kneel at your feet and bow?”

“Sure, why not?” Zeena grinned, exuding a lot more confidence than she felt. “My Enchanted Roots will help you down!”

“Say what, now?” Babet frowned, but a second later he was screeching as roots sprung from the ground and wound up his body. Zeena smirked at the three struggling Witches, but her jaw dropped as the roots suddenly turned to ice.

The three Witches grinned wickedly as the frozen roots shattered and vanished, and to Zeena’s terror, Claquesous vanished and reappeared behind the Faery. “Now,” she hissed threateningly, “are you going to be a good little Faery and show us to where your most powerful spells are kept, or are your wings going to be shattered like those roots?”

 

* * *

 

“No sign of Witches in any of the classrooms,” Cosette reported, and the other Amis nodded in agreement. Cosette was about to suggest they search the dorms again when the smell hit her nose – and not just any smell, but one that was horridly reminiscent of rotting meat.

“Eugh!” she gagged. “What _died_ in here?”

Courfeyrac groaned as he smelt it too. “Holy shit, it smells like old fish left in a hot car for three weeks.”

“That is the worst thing I have ever smelled in my life,” Éponine said disgustedly, “and my dad used to use stinkbugs in potions – in our kitchen!”

“I hope they find the source really soon,” Cosette shuddered, “because that is _not natural!”_

Suddenly Jehan spoke up. “It’s not a body,” they said. They looked extremely worried. “That’s the scent of a Titun Arum, more commonly known as a Corpse Flower – and its scent is commonly used on Lynphea as an extreme distress signal.” They frowned. “There’s only one other Lynphean in the school right now, which means Zeena’s in trouble – _big_ trouble.”

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe we’re soon going to have all of Musain’s secrets right at our fingertips!” Babet said gleefully as they followed Zeena through the corridors towards the entrance to the tower.

“I know,” Claquesous agreed. “It feels like just a little bit of revenge against those annoying Amis.”

“And once we have them,” Gueulemer said excitedly, “we can get the rest of our revenge by using their own magic against them – and would you _stop farting!”_

“I can’t help it,” Zeena defended herself, as more of the noxious gas she was exuding filled the air. “I get gassy when I’m scared.” _Please recognise my distress signal, Jehan, she thought desperately. I don’t know how much longer I can keep this up._

They reached the library a minute later, and Zeena led them through the shelves to the Restricted Section, opening the golden gates for them to enter. “Here,” she said coldly. “The Restricted Section.”

“Excellent,” Babet grinned. “All the spells we need should be right here in this room!”

 

* * *

 

As the Amis flew through the corridors, Jehan continued sniffing the air in spite of the horrid smell – indeed, they were trying to seek it out. “She’s definitely in the right wing,” they decided. “Upper floor – she walked along the corridor above us, which means she’s probably heading for the library. And the smell’s really intense – she’s super afraid.” Their eyes widened. “I think Patron-Minette is in the school – and they got Zeena.”

 

* * *

 

“You can really feel the magic pulsing in here,” Claquesous said in awe. She picked up a scroll to examine it. “Almost like it’s alive!”

“Let me see!” Gueulemer demanded. He snatched at the scroll – and bumped against a bookcase, knocking several books down on top of his and his cousins’ heads.

“Ow! What the hell, ‘Mer?”

“Ouch! Hardback!”

“Achooo! Ugh, why are these all so dusty?!”

Zeena slowly reached into her pocket and pulled out her perfume bottle. She turned and ran, flinging it through the door so it smashed on the floor just outside the golden gates, and the Lynphean Lime mixed with her Corpse Flower distress signal. _Jehan will know where I am,_ was her last thought before she was hit with the freezing charm.

“Freeze, Faery!” Babet barked as Zeena’s entire body stopped right where she was. “And I do mean that literally!” He strolled towards her and snapped his fingers, freezing her little pink wings solid. A second snap, and they shattered into a thousand fragments, as the freezing charm simultaneously lifted.

Zeena fell to the floor with a scream. “No! My wings!” she sobbed.

“You deserve it,” Gueulemer growled, raising his hand. “Never try to outsmart a – OUCH!”

Jehan blasted him off his feet. “Leave her alone!” they snarled, the angriest Patron-Minette had ever seen them. The Amis landed next to them, surrounding Zeena and shielding her from view.

“Aah, there you are,” Babet smirked. “I was wondering. You’ve arrived just in time for my Ice Storm – sorry for the chilly reception!” Ice daggers blasted from his hands, but Cosette formed another golden shield, which sent the daggers blasting back at Babet, forcing him to dive out of the way.

“Get out of our school,” she growled. Gueulemer got to his feet.

“Well, since you like studying so much, here are some books!” he snarled. “Enjoy!” A small tornado appeared, knocking hundreds of books off the shelves so that they spun towards the Amis. The Faeries threw up their hands to shield their faces from the sharp spines, and Courfeyrac sent a blast of green light back at them, neutralizing the tornado.

“Thanks,” he quipped, “but I prefer to go digital.”

Meanwhile, Jehan had helped Zeena to her feet, and was supporting her towards the entrance. “Come on Zee-zee,” they whispered. “It’s gonna be OK.” Zeena didn’t reply, staring into space with horrified eyes, and Jehan set their jaw. “Don’t worry. I’ve got your back.”

Babet and Gueulemer raised their hands, summoning a single ball of converged light that blasted towards the Amis, but Courfeyrac summoned a Digital Shield that absorbed it. Cosette and Éponine exchanged a glance.

“You hit ‘em, I’ll catch ‘em?” Éponine grinned. Cosette nodded and blasted Babet and Gueulemer with fiery sparks, knocking them out of the air, and Éponine hummed a short tune, summoning glowing staves of notes that wrapped around the two Witches, pinning their arms to their sides.

“You’d think you guys would learn,” Courfeyrac chuckled, but a sneering voice behind them made the Amis turn with mounting horror.

“It’s not over yet.” Claquesous was leaning against one of the bookcases next to the door with a wide smirk stretched across her face. “If you guys wanna fight fire with fire, then _so be it.”_ Before they could make any move in her direction to stop her, the Witch of Darkness raised her hand and blasted a bookcase with dark magic.

It immediately went up in flames.

Now, burning down a library is bad enough. You are desecrating a place of knowledge, learning and sanctuary for no good reason (as there is never a good reason to burn down a library). But Claquesous had just set fire to a magical library – one that held many ancient, one-of-a-kind books and scrolls that were both irreplaceable and filled with ancient magic – ancient magic that quickly mixed with the flames.

“DON’T DO IT, CLAQUESOUS!” Cosette screamed, but too late. Claquesous sent another blast at a bookshelf in the opposite direction and vanished in a cloud of violet smoke. What was worse, the Amis turned to see Éponine’s spell shatter and Babet and Gueulemer vanish too. A second later, the bookshelves on either side of the gates went up, and the first bookcase crumpled, burning wood and paper strewn across the floor with the flames rapidly spreading to the hardwood.

Courfeyrac turned to grab the magical fire-extinguisher that should have been next to the gates, but realised it had been swallowed by the now magic-infused flames, which had overpowered the compound inside. “Guys? Anyone have any idea how else we can put this out?”

Cosette flew into the air. “I’ll try and absorb the flames! Reverse Dragon Power!” For a moment her spell seemed to be working – the flames began rushing up towards her, but a second later they fell back to the ground and continued to blaze, leaving Cosette with her clothes singed and a painful burn across her stomach. “It’s cursed fire,” she choked. “It’s too powerful for me. We need to get out of here!”

“Everybody head for the exit!” Jehan shouted. The Amis immediately did so, but to their horror, Zeena threw Jehan’s arm off her shoulders and headed back into the blaze. “ZEENA!”

“If I can just save some of the books,” Zeena coughed through the acrid grey smoke that was filling the air, “maybe all won’t be lost! I don’t want my wings to have been destroyed in vain!”

“ZEENA!” Jehan screamed again, and ran after her, ignoring their friends’ horrified cries. They held their arms over their face to shield their eyes from the smoke, and dived through a gap in the flames. Zeena was crouched on the floor, clutching one of the few books that hadn’t been caught in the blaze, and Jehan immediately picked her up bridal-style. The gap between the flames was flickering, and now that they could see the floorboards, which were unvarnished and making a rapid popping noise, they realized what was about to happen and came to a decision.

“COSETTE! CATCH HER!”

“Jehan, what are you -?” Zeena gasped.

Jehan flung Zeena through the gap, and Cosette zoomed into the air and caught her just as the entire floor beneath Jehan’s feet went up in six-foot-high white flames.

Zeena and the Amis screamed, but there was nothing they could do. Jehan was either dead or dying, trapped in the flames none of them had been able to put out.

“This is all my fault,” Zeena whispered. “If I hadn’t gone back in there… if I hadn’t been caught by those Witches…”

Cosette opened her mouth to say something comforting, but she couldn’t get any words out. Jehan was gone… and in such a horrid way…

“Oh, stop blaming yourself,” someone said, and the Amis all looked up in shock. That… that voice… it couldn’t be possible… unless…

“You know I would have come after you regardless of what happened. This is no one’s fault but Tholomyés, and those three rotten Witches.”

That was Jehan’s voice, unmistakeably.

“Jehan?” Courfeyrac whispered. “Are you a… a ghost?!”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Courf,” the voice laughed. “I’m perfectly all right.” And then Jehan flew through the flames, and the Amis saw they were in fact more than all right –

They’d earned their Enchantix.

Jehan’s ginger hair was now ankle length, with the front locks pulled away from their face into two tiny woven knots at either side of their head, held in place with pink clips and a wonderfully tacky blue tiara. They wore a rainbow-striped tube top that connected to a ruffled pink dress that flared out around their thighs, and a tiny pink flower-shaped bottle hung around their neck. Green footless sandals and sparkling pink gloves completed the look, and as for their wings – they were huge and green, fading to pink at the edges and sparkling with tiny blue jewels.

“You’re… you’re… that’s incredible, Jehan!” Éponine gasped. “You’re a true Faery now!”

“In that case,” Jehan grinned, “I can easily stop this fire!” They reached for the flower-shaped bottle and pulled it off their necklace, uncorking it and releasing a burst of green sparkles. “Faery Dust, put out the fire!” For no other reason seemingly than liking how the Dust sparkled, they drew a giant flower in the air, letting the magical powder drift down and smother the flames. Zeena and the Amis watched in wonder as the magic easily put out the fire and healed the damaged books, lifting them back onto the shelves.

“Wow, Jehan,” Zeena gasped, but Jehan wasn’t done yet.

“And a little Faery Dust for you too,” they winked. “Dark magic took your wings, so now I’m restoring them!”

Indeed, Zeena felt a tingling sensation at her back, and when she glanced over her shoulder, her wings had reappeared! “You saved them!” she gasped as Jehan landed lightly on the ground. “Oh, thank you so much, Jehan!” She immediately ran to pull them into a tight hug. “You’re the best cousin ever!”

 

* * *

 

 

Outside, both the Witches and the storm were retreating, and a great, relieved cheer went up throughout the courtyard. Azelma couldn’t join in, though. Montparnasse was retreating with the Witches, not a glimpse of remorse on his face. Azelma couldn’t believe that her best friend had just tried to attack her on behalf of someone as horridly evil as Félix Tholomyès, and yet he had.

 

* * *

 

Miss Zephine was practically sobbing with relief when she arrived at the Restricted Section with Professor Javert. “Thank you so much, Jehan,” she gasped. “Many of these books are ancient, handwritten, and one-of-a-kind. Without you, they would have been gone forever.”

“I’d also like to thank all of you,” Javert said, smiling slightly – which for him, was the equivalent of jumping up and down crying with joy. “Without you, Patron-Minette would have succeeded in getting their hands on our magical secrets – and we all know what would have happened if Tholomyès had managed to get hold of them.”

“I don’t doubt that he’ll keep trying,” Courfeyrac frowned. “Patron-Minette too, but hopefully after today, they’ll think twice before they come back.”

Javert nodded, frowning too. “We all have a lot to be proud of today, but unfortunately, I have some sad news. Headmaster Myriel has not returned from his battle with Tholomyès. He is presumed missing.”

“Well then,” Cosette said, narrowing her eyes. “I guess we know what our next mission is: to find Myriel, no matter where he is or what it takes.”


	11. In Which The Search For Headmaster Myriel Continues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Headmaster Myriel still missing, the Third Year students set out to find him. Meanwhile, Azelma leads a solo mission to Votirlu...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dreadfully sorry this is later than usual, but I'm quite busy at the moment trying to fix the disaster that is the floorboards in my bedroom. Hope you enjoy!!

The craters in the forest – remnants of the Witches’ attack – were still smoldering the next morning even in spite of the night’s heavy rain. But all Azelma could do was gaze miserably at the framed picture of herself with Montparnasse on her desk.

 _Oh, Parnasse, why did you attack us? What made you do it?_ She rolled her desk chair towards the window and looked out at the courtyard, where the third years were splitting into groups and heading towards the gate.

“Full permission to use whatever spells necessary!” Javert’s voice carried, even through the glass. “And remember, red sparks for danger you can’t handle alone, amber sparks if you need medical help, and green sparks if you find Headmaster Myriel. AND BE SAFE!”

 _Of course,_ Azelma remembered. _Headmaster Myriel is still missing. Oh, I do hope he’s OK…_

 

* * *

 

“I remember the last explosions we saw were north-east of the castle,” Musichetta was saying. “That means the duel likely ended up somewhere in the forest.”

“But the forest is huge,” Jehan pointed out. “And we have no way of knowing what happened after the explosions. I can’t even ask the plants since they have no way of detecting a Teleporting spell. Do you have any idea of how long it would take to search the entire forest?”

“Accounting for the discovery and examination of potential clues; five weeks, six days, three hours, fourteen minutes and twelve seconds,” Courfeyrac said gloomily.

Éponine made the face she usually reserved for overcooked carrots. “Then I guess we’d better get started.”

“Wait,” Cosette frowned. “Speaking of missing people, has anyone seen the Piskies?”

“It has been a while,” Enjolras agreed. “I told them we were off to do some detective work and haven’t seen them since.”

“Did someone say detective work?” someone squeaked behind them. The Amis turned to see Juliette, Simone, Roselyne, Manon, Abby and Lise dressed as film noir detectives, all holding tiny flashlights and magnifying glasses.

“We’re on the case,” Roselyne announced. “We’re ready for action!”

“And ready to follow the clues to Headmaster Myriel,” Manon added.

 

* * *

 

The Faeries of Musain weren’t the only ones dealing with backlash from the battle. Patron-Minette had found themselves in a bit of hot water with Tholomyès.

“So we didn’t get the spells,” Gueulemer rolled his eyes. Tholomyès continued to ignore him. “Big deal, neither did the Faeries!”

“Yeah,” Claquesous added smugly. “We barbecued that library to the ground!”

“Did you, now?” Tholomyès said coolly. “Because I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“Why not?” Gueulemer said angrily. “The place was up in smoke when we left!”

“Yeah!” Babet agreed. “There’s probably nothing left of Musain but a pile of ashes! You should be thanking us!”

Tholomyès turned to face them, and the three Witches were taken aback by how furious he looked. “Thanks to you, I’m right back where I started!” he snarled.

Babet gaped. “Excuse me?”

Tholomyès glared, his velvet tones suddenly rough and angry. “Thanks to your failure to get the job done, as soon as you left the Amis put the fire out!”

“Impossible!” Claquesous gasped. “It was cursed fire –”

Tholomyès coldly stared at her. “Faeries are capable of more than you give them credit for. Rule Number One: NEVER underestimate an enemy. That is what leads to your downfall.” He turned back to the desk, apparently sinking back into deep thought. “I need someone with _real_ ability,” he said softly. “Just one person with whom I can share _all_ my power.”

“Just one person?” Claquesous gasped.

“All your power?” Babet gaped.

Tholomyès nodded. “I’ll give you one last chance to prove yourselves. I want you to keep an eye on Thénardier.”

Babet exchanged a confused glance with his cousins. “Sure, no problem. We’ve got it covered.”

“Good.” But there was a clear tone to Tholomyès voice that said ‘You’d better.’

 

* * *

 

The Amis had decided that it would be best if Enjolras, Musichetta and Jehan did a flyover first. Enchantix wings could fly much quicker than Charmix wings, not to mention had more mileage, so they could easily find the exact location of the craters that would doubtless be left by the explosion. Indeed, they easily found the sight of four craters, two huge and two small, and hovered above the area until the Charmix Faeries and the Piskies caught up.

Cosette landed on the ground, examining a boulder with a hole blown clean through it. She gave a low whistle. “Looks like nobody won this fight. Juliette, I need your help.” Juliette fluttered down next to her bonded Faery. “Can you detect Myriel’s emotional presence?”

Juliette closed her eyes as though deep in thought, but after a moment opened them and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Cosette,” she groaned. “I don’t feel very well.”

Cosette hugged her Piskie comfortingly as Courfeyrac and Abby landed next to them. “Tholomyès’ spells left a large residue of Dark magic,” Abby explained. “It’s similar to Shadowhaunt in that it makes Light magic powers harder to use. Charmix Faeries won’t be badly affected, and I doubt it will affect an Enchantix at all, but we Piskies are very sensitive to it.”

Jehan looked thoughtful. “Well, if I won’t be affected, that gives me an idea. The battle was definitely here, so this area of the forest will know what happened. Come on!” They fluttered down to the base of an oak tree and touched its roots, squinting in concentration.

“Do the trees know what happened?” Éponine asked after a minute. “Are they willing to answer you?”

Jehan nodded. “Yeah, but like Abby said, the Dark magic is making it difficult to understand them. Everyone, stand back.” The Faeries and Piskies alike took to the air, fluttering in a group at least twenty feet away from them. “Time to try out some of my new powers. Nature, speak to me!”

A wind whipped through the clearing, surrounding Jehan, and the Amis flew back further as leaves began whirling around them. Jehan seemed completely unbothered, listening intently to the wind, and after a moment Éponine realised why.

“It's like… music,” she said in awe. Jehan nodded.

“It’s the Voice of Nature,” they replied softly. “In its purest form.” The wind dropped, and Jehan sank slowly to their knees. Cosette worriedly fluttered down next to them.

“What did the trees tell you?”

Jehan looked up at her, their eyes welling with tears. “These trees witnessed the dreadful battle between Tholomyès and Myriel.”

“And?” Cosette whispered, barely able to breathe.

“Not bad news?” Enjolras said nervously. To his relief, Jehan shook their head, a smile breaking across their face.

“Headmaster Myriel is alive!”

“So?” Musichetta urged. “What happened to him?”

Jehan’s smile faded. “The trees couldn’t bring themselves to watch; it was too horrible.”

“The _trees_ are scared of Tholomyès?” Cosette mumbled. Éponine fluttered down on Jehan’s other side.

“Did they tell you anything else?”

Jehan nodded. “When it was all over, Tholomyès flew west.”

Éponine gasped. “But west is –”

“Votirlu,” Cosette finished.

 

* * *

 

Azelma fluttered up the path, keeping to the shadows and staying close to the wall but never touching it. The enormous purple structure towered above her, no longer promising the warmth of her best friend nor the safety of her father. She knew if she could just get in without being noticed – but then a shadow fell across the path; a woman flying above her.

“No!” she gasped. “Patron-Minette –!”

“I have never been so insulted in my life,” said a familiar voice. Azelma turned, and gave a sigh of relief when she saw who it was.

“Dumbass! You nearly scared me to death!”

Éponine fluttered down next to her, and the Amis followed. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to know what happened the other day,” Azelma explained. “I’m so worried about Montparnasse and the other Witches. Attacking us like that… it just wasn’t like them.”

“We want some answers too,” Enjolras frowned. “If we’re going in there though, we should stick together.”

Cosette nodded. “With Tholomyès around, there’s danger everywhere.”

 

* * *

 

The Piskies had opted out of accompanying the Amis to Votirlu, and were continuing to search the cratered area of the forest. Unfortunately, they hadn’t found much more than a couple of uprooted trees and several broken branches.

“Well, no sign of Headmaster Myriel here,” Manon sighed.

Roselyne turned her torch off – not that she needed it. With a good deal of tree-cover gone, the mid-morning sunlight shone down into the forest. “What say you we give Juliette another try? Surely she’s adapted to the magic levels here by now,” she suggested.

Abby shook her head. “It doesn’t work like that… however,” she looked thoughtful, “we could move away from this area until the residue doesn’t affect us any more. Juliette’s powers would probably work better, if she’s up to it.”

Juliette agreed that it sounded like a fine idea, and the Piskies headed away from the craters back under the trees. They were perhaps thirty metres in when Juliette screamed.

“What?!” Simone gasped. “What’s wrong, Juliette?!”

Juliette pointed, shaking in terror. They were at the bottom of an embankment, and at the top of the little rocky outcrop were three enormous sabre-toothed cats, bearing their teeth at the intruders to their forest.

 

* * *

 

The Amis flew silently down a corridor of Votirlu Castle, not quite believing that they’d really made it in undetected. Indeed, the halls were unusually empty – and in a school full of Witches, silence meant something was afoot. Witches were only silent when they wanted to be, and as Azelma knew well, Witches usually only wanted to be silent when they were planning an attack of some sort. They reached the dormitory corridor, and Cosette landed lightly next to a door, twisting the doorknob experimentally. To her surprise, it was unlocked, and the door swung open revealing a dorm room.

Cosette leapt away from the door the second she realised there were three Witches inside, but the expected attack never came. Curiosity got the better of her, and she fluttered forward into the room. The Witches were all lying on their beds on top of the blankets, fully clothed and apparently comatose – except their eyes were wide open. Cosette got closer, and realised that they were all staring blankly at the ceiling, not seeing her at all.

“Look at their eyes,” she murmured. Courfeyrac joined her, taking out the little red compact he kept his dreambug in. The little robotic ladybug fluttered out and over the nearest Witch’s body, scanning her.

“We need a closer look,” Courfeyrac muttered. The ladybug landed back in the pod, and Courfeyrac pressed a button. Immediately, the little screen on top lit up with data that made him frown. “They’re asleep, but… _changed.”_

“Changed how?” Jehan asked.

Courfeyrac shrugged, squinting at the screen. “Looks like some kind of Dark spell. It’s put them in a sort of suspended animation.”

“Why?”

Courfeyrac shook his head. “I don’t know. I’m guessing it might have something to do with resting their powers in preparation for another attack.”

Azelma looked distraught. She had never been close with many of the Witches of Votirlu, but she still felt a strong bond with the place – and thus with its inhabitants. Éponine entered the room, looking worried.

“There are suspended Witches in every dorm in this corridor,” she said. Azelma turned to her with wide eyes, but Éponine shook her head. “I didn’t see Montparnasse.”

“Oh Dragon, where is he?” Azelma sniffled. Éponine put an arm around her sister, but suddenly froze, and instead slapped a hand over Azelma’s mouth.

“Ssshhhh,” she hissed. “I heard something.”

The Amis all obediently fell silent, and Éponine listened hard. There it was again! A magical sort of hiss, coming from the corridor. “What is that?”

The seven Faeries left the dorm, raising their fists in preparation, but to their shock, it wasn’t an attack – at least, not one by a foe. The doors all along the corridor were disappearing, including the one they’d just left, and Cosette was unpleasantly reminded of the last time they’d set foot in Votirlu, when Patron-Minette had cursed the castle to be uncontrollable.

“Everyone, stay close,” she said quietly. “Don’t touch the floor, and _stick together.”_

 

* * *

 

“This isn’t good,” Abby commented as the sabre-toothed cats jumped down towards them. “It’s lunchtime, and I’m guessing we’re about to be on the menu.”

“Then let’s get out of here,” Manon shuddered. “Lunch is cancelled!”

“No!” Roselyne whispered. “They’ll pounce the second we move!”

Ignoring her, Juliette got to her feet. The tigers tensed. “I can use my magic again!” she exclaimed, not even bothering to keep her voice down as she raised her hands. “Love Explosion!”

The cats pounced at the same moment the spell exploded. The Piskies threw up their hands to shield their faces, but to their surprise, they didn’t feel any claws or teeth – instead, soft, thick fur. They opened their eyes to see the cats nuzzling at them, purring happily.

“Nice one, Jules,” Roselyne breathed.

Juliette was stroking the nose of the cat nearest her. “Now all they have in their hearts is love and affection,” she smiled.

“Really?” Simone said excitedly. She immediately cuddled the cheek of another cat, who happily licked her head, making her blue hair stand on end. “Such nice pussycats!”

“Puddytat!” Lise added, snuggling down for a nap on the back of the third cat.

 

* * *

 

The doors reappeared a second later, but with them came the Witches, walking towards them like zombies – and the dark, hulking shadows behind them that suggested they’d brought monstrous backup.

“Looks like everyone’s awake,” Éponine commented.

“Naptime’s over, but the nightmare’s just beginning,” Courfeyrac agreed. “All the students are under Tholomyès’ control – and so are the teachers!”

Cosette squinted at the two insect-like monsters as they stepped out of the shadows. One was green in colour, and had Viridium’s hooked nose, while the other was purple and had Zarathustra’s sharp cheekbones.

“Mes Amis,” she said quietly, “get ready.” All seven Faeries fluttered up towards the ceiling. The Witches seemed too sluggish to follow, but apparently they could still easily use magic, because one clapped his hands and the lights immediately clicked out all down the corridor.

“I agree you look better in the dark,” Enjolras said contemplatively, “but if you think you can hide from us, let me shed a little _light_ on the situation.” Powerful beams of light flooded from his hands, illuminating the entire corridor. “Can you see me now? Because what you can see can hurt you.”

The monster that had once been Viridium opened its mouth and blasted black light at him, but Musichetta acted quickly. “Plasma Protection!” The same pink Morphix she had used at the party on Eraklyon appeared between Enjolras and the monster, sending the light blasting back at it. To their shock, its skin merely absorbed the light.

Éponine shuddered. “With skin that thick, we’re going to need something a little stronger.”

“Enchantix convergence might work,” Musichetta suggested. Jehan flew into place next to her, but they were interrupted by a rasping voice.

“Zank you vor ze zuggeztion, leetle Faeries,” the green monster hissed. The purple monster sloped over to stand next to it, and they opened their mouths and fired balls of light at the same time. The light collided just as Musichetta and Jehan cast their convergence.

“Convergence! Rubber Repel Spell!”

The light from the monsters bounced off the two Faeries, leaving them completely unharmed, and headed back towards the monsters. The spell easily knocked out both monsters and most of the Witches, who now lay dazed on the floor.

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès grit his teeth angrily as he gazed into the crystal ball on the office’s desk. “Les Amis!”

“How did they get in?” Babet growled. Tholomyès glared at him.

“What are you three still doing here? Didn’t I give you an order?”

Claquesous rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but it’s a waste of our Dark talents to put us on guard duty for Thénardier.”

“Yeah!” Babet agreed. “Order us to fight them, or something!”

Gueulemer peered around Tholomyès at the crystal ball, which showed the Amis facing off with the remainder of the Witches. “Hey!” he said suddenly. “What’s that Faery wannabe _Azelma_ doing here?!”

Tholomyès raised an eyebrow. “You know that girl?”

“She used to study here, but then she switched to Musain,” Claquesous explained. “I don’t know how Thénardier could stand it – both his daughters turning out Faeries.”

“She’s Thénardier’s daughter?” Tholomyès said sharply. “You mentioned a sister. Who’s the sister?”

“That busybody Éponine,” Gueulemer scowled. His hand rubbed at a phantom bruise on his stomach, recalling the time she’d kicked his arse in under three minutes with only one spell. “The one in yellow sending shockwaves at your lackeys.”

“But she never studied here?”

Gueulemer shook his head. “Only Azelma.”

“Interesting,” Tholomyès hummed. “Then it should be easy to use her to betray the Amis. Tell me more about Azelma.”

 

* * *

 

“Convergence!” Enjolras and Éponine shouted. “Solar Sleep Song!” With Éponine’s sleeping spell magnified by Enjolras’ powers, it easily knocked out the remaining Witches just as the monsters got to their feet. Upon seeing their fallen fellows, they hurried to gather the unconscious bodies and retreat towards an apparently hidden door.

“Vee’ll be back,” the purple one hissed as it vanished. The Amis had no doubt the monsters would return to give it another try later, but they’d defeated them for now, which was what mattered. In fact as soon as the purple monster’s leg disappeared, the doors began to return.

Indeed, one of the doors swung open – a door which, to Azelma, was in a very familiar place. She started curiously towards it.

“Great,” Enjolras sighed as the lights came back on. “Now we can get back to looking for Headmaster Myriel.”

“Not yet,” Éponine frowned. “Where’s Azelma?”

The Amis turned, and indeed, Azelma was nowhere to be seen. “Azelma?” Jehan called.

“MONTPARNASSE!”

The Amis turned to see Azelma entering a door at the end of the corridor, her posture oozing concern and fear, and they realised who she’d finally found. Courfeyrac pulled a hand across his face, casting an X-ray spell on his eyes, and squinted through the wall at what she’d found. When he saw what was in the room, his eyes widened with terror.

“NO! Azelma, it’s a trap!”

Too late. With a flash of green light and a shriek of pain, Azelma fell to the ground.

“AZELMA!” Éponine screamed, and she hurried towards the door with the Amis in hot pursuit. When they entered the room, they found themselves face to face with –

“Tholomyès,” Cosette growled. Tholomyès smirked back at her.

“Aah, the ‘missing friend’ trap,” he chuckled. “Works every time.” Without further ado, he blasted black light at them, but Enjolras hurriedly summoned a shield bubble that easily absorbed the spell.

“Is that the best you can do, Tholomyès?” he taunted, raising his own hand. “Radiant Rocket!”

To his horror, Tholomyès merely raised his hand and caught the spell, which flickered out. Behind them, the door slammed shut. “Too late, Faeries,” he sneered. “Anyone who enters through these doors comes under effect of my Negation Spell – meaning your convergence magic will no longer work.”

“We’ll see about that!” Musichetta growled. She grabbed Enjolras and Jehan by the hands. “ENCHANTIX CONVERGENCE!” they chanted together.

But it seemed Tholomyès’ spell was stronger than they were. The powerful blast did come, but instead of shooting towards Tholomyès, it rebounded on them, making all three Faeries shudder with pain.

Enjolras grit his teeth, forcing himself to ignore his aching limbs. “Alright,” he ground out. “Time for a more direct approach. CHARGE!”

Together, the Amis ran directly at Tholomyès, almost as if they were playing chicken – but Tholomyès was not about to swerve for them.

“Alright,” he grinned. “Now I’ll show you what _I_ can do.” He leapt into the air and blasted at the ground beneath their feet, blasting an enormous hole in the floor that sent up plumes of dust and smoke. When it cleared, the Amis were gone, and Tholomyès flew down through the hole to the next room, where he assumed they’d landed in a second cloud of dust. “Looks like the six of you have hit _rock bottom_ ,” he taunted premeditatedly, but when the dust settled he was shocked to see only Cosette, Courfeyrac and Éponine on the floor.

“Up here, Tholomyès!” Enjolras’ voice mocked him. He turned to see the three Enchantix Faeries fluttering near the ceiling.

“Impressive,” he smirked. Musichetta glared fiercely at him.

“You can’t overpower all three of us, Tholomyès,” she snarled. Tholomyès seemed to take that as an invitation, sending a curse spinning towards her. Musichetta reacted quickly and dodged, sending her own spell back at him. He jumped backwards, avoiding the pale pink light, but was knocked onto his arse by a blast of gold from Enjolras.

“Bullseye!”

Tholomyès got to his feet with a snarl, and with a flick of his wrists sent multiple blasts of Dark magic at them, forcing them to weave and duck and dodge like mad. Musichetta flew upwards, avoiding his shooting range, and sent a beam of light back at him. While this did have the effect of stopping the blasts, it was unfortunately only because Tholomyès chose instead to stop her beam of light with his bare hands, using some sort of counter-spell that was sending black smoke everywhere. The smoke travelled up the beam of light, and Musichetta let go of the spell upon realising what might happen if it reached her.

“Not bad, Amis,” Tholomyès grinned, only sounding a little out of breath. “But you’re forgetting that Votirlu is under _my_ control!” And with a clap of his hands, the wall warped and yanked the three Enchantix Faeries towards it.

 

* * *

 

“My, but do these colossal kitty-cats demand a lot of attention,” Manon sighed, continuing to rub one cat’s fluffy tummy. Roselyne was beginning to look worried.

“Well, we can’t stay here all day,” she reminded them. “We’ve got to keep looking for Myriel.”

“Unfortunately, sabre-toothed cats are easily upset,” Abby pointed out. “They might get angry if we stop petting them –” She was interrupted by an enormous snore from one of the cats – the one Lise was resting on top of.

“Lise’s cat is fast asleep!” Simone realised. “It must be her Sweet Dreams magic.” She looked thoughtful. “So it stands to reason that she’ll have the same effect on the other ones!” She fluttered down and lifted Lise up off the cat’s back, moving her onto the side of the next one, and then the tummy of the third. Without fail, both cats immediately nodded off.

“Nighty-night, kitties,” Juliette giggled. “Now, let’s see if I can work a little more magic…” She concentrated hard, falling silent for almost a minute before she excitedly announced, “I can sense him! It’s faint, but he’s here, in…” she thought for another moment before pointing north-east, “ _that_ direction!”

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès surveyed his foes groaning on the ground with a smile, but a thumping behind him disturbed him. He turned to see the monsters he’d made of the teachers entering the room with three Witches next to them. _“What?”_ he asked irritably.

“Zere eez a deesturbance een zee dungeons,” the purple monster explained. “Thénardier is trying to escape.”

Tholomyès rubbed his temple in exasperation. “I knew I couldn’t trust Patron-Minette to guard him,” he groaned.

“Do you vant _us_ to find 'im?” the green one hissed. Its eyes glinted malevolently.

Tholomyès shook his head. “No, I’ll take care of him. I don’t need to worry about Les Amis anymore. You three –” he pointed at the Witches the monsters had brought with them, “– finish them off.” With that, he left the room with a swish of his wine-red overcoat.

The Witches started towards the six collapsed Faeries, who began struggling to get up the second Tholomyès left. “Come on, guys,” Cosette panted. “We have… to keep… fighting!”

Éponine struggled to her knees. “Sonic Blast!” she said weakly, aiming for one of the Witches. The magenta light floated lazily through the air, stopping and dropping to the floor just in front of the Witch, who, in spite of her zombie-like state, grinned wickedly.

“Our powers… are almost completely… drained,” Jehan realised. The monster that had once been Professor Zarathustra raised one of its spidery legs and slashed it across the poor Faery’s face, leaving a scarlet cut. Musichetta yanked them away from the monster as it raised its leg a second time, but was forced to let go of them as a painful shock coursed through her body.

“OUCH!” She panted heavily, trying to ignore the pain. “What was _that?”_

Courfeyrac frowned. “It must be Tholomyès’ Negation Spell.” Experimentally, he reached out and touched Éponine’s shoulder, and groaned as a similar shock coursed through his body.

Cosette looked thoughtful. “So Tholomyès didn’t really block convergence – only the ability for us to touch each other. So in theory, we could cast still a convergence spell, but not while touching each other.”

“Definitely worth a shot,” Enjolras agreed. “Let’s do it.”

“We’d better do it fast,” Éponine yelped, dodging another swat-attack from a monster leg. The Amis took to the air, flying out of reach of the monsters and being careful to stay at least two metres away from each other.

“Let’s try this again,” Musichetta shouted. “Enchantix convergence! Rainbow Repulsion Ray!” She, Enjolras and Jehan all raised their hands, and a streak of rainbow light swirled between their bodies, twisting down to bathe the Witches and the monsters, who fled, shielding their faces.

“Nice work!” Cosette grinned, but a second later she screamed, zooming away from the wall, which had reached out with a hand to try and grab her.

“Everybody, RUN!” Éponine screamed. They flew out the nearest door and down the corridor, the hand moving through the walls and floor while trying to snatch at them. Unfortunately, they quickly reached a dead end, and were forced to turn around when the hand pushed through the wall in front of them. But it was quicker than they were – it pushed through the wall in front of them, blocking the way back.

“We’re going to need a hand to get out of this one,” Courfeyrac joked, making his friends groan. “Seriously, though,” he added. “I don’t know how we can get away from –”

“Mes Amis! Over here!” The Amis turned to see Azelma waving at them, fully awake and fluttering next to a giant mirror. With a grin, she leapt towards it – and vanished through the glass!

Éponine followed her with no hesitation, and the rest of the Amis were right behind her. Luckily, it seemed the hand couldn’t follow them here. They found themselves in a dark corridor leading away from the mirror in both directions.

“These are secret passages connected to every part of the school,” Azelma explained. “We can use them to help us with our search.”

Cosette and Enjolras exchanged a glance; they remembered being here during their fight with Patron-Minette two years ago – and that the passages were almost certainly connected to the prison cells in the attic. “If there’s anywhere he’s going to keep a prisoner…” Cosette began.

“…it’s in here,” Enjolras finished.

“But we still don’t know where to look for Headmaster Myriel,” Jehan pointed out. “Which way should we go?”

Their question was answered almost before they’d finished asking it; a bright beam of light came from the left path, and they hurried towards it, keeping silent and close to the walls.

“There,” a smooth, velvety voice sneered, and the Amis froze next to an archway, praying that Tholomyès would not notice them. “I’ve increased the strength of your Lock-Up spell. Now you’ll never be able to escape.” And with a chuckle and a flash of black light, he vanished.

The Amis waited a moment before hurrying into the tiny room, at the other end of which was an alcove sealed off by prison bars. They wondered if perhaps it was Headmaster Myriel – but while it was a headmaster, it wasn’t the one they were expecting.

“Dad?” Éponine and Azelma gasped.

Indeed, Headmaster Thénardier lay on the cold stone ground, fresh bruises blooming across his face. Upon hearing their voices, he groaned and opened one yellow eye.

“Headmaster Thénardier, what happened to you?” Jehan gasped.

“Tholomyès locked me in here,” Thénardier groaned. “He sees no satisfaction in controlling his personal enemies; forcing me to watch him take over with my students as his lackeys is a far greater punishment.”

“We’ll get you out, Sir,” Cosette said firmly. Her Charmix gleamed in agreement, but Thénardier shook his head madly.

“No! You mustn’t! Even if you could break the spell, it would tip Tholomyès off as to your whereabouts!”

“We can’t leave you here, dad!” Azelma said desperately. “It’s too dangerous! And we need your help to find Headmaster Myriel!”

Thénardier sat up fully. “Myriel is missing?!”

Cosette nodded. “He and Tholomyès were battling in the forest and we haven’t seen him since!”

“Tholomyès did say that my imprisonment was part of his revenge against the Company of Light,” Thénardier frowned. “He’s got me imprisoned here, but as far as I know the other three he was after aren’t here – that would be Myriel, Wizgiz and Lamarque.”

“Wizgiz is safe,” Enjolras assured him. “And as far as we know, so is Lamarque.”

“Good,” Thénardier nodded. “As to Myriel… you must seek out the Vault Monsters who roam these passages.” At the Faeries’ confused looks, he elaborated, “They are the Guardians of Votirlu, and as such, hear everything that goes on within these walls. Thus, they may have heard what happened to Myriel.”

 

* * *

 

“How much further away is Headmaster Myriel?” Roselyne asked as the Piskies flew through the forest.

Juliette frowned, focussing on the faint emotional presence she’d managed to pick up. “I’m not sure,” she said worriedly. “This is the strongest I’ve felt it – hang on, fly back the way. It’s getting weaker – there! It’s stronger again.” She stopped next to a large oak tree. “Here… he should be right here.”

“Well, I don’t see anyone,” Abby pointed out. “So unless he’s sitting in that oak tree…”

“Hang on,” Simone frowned. “Check this out. Something’s not right about this oak tree. It’s the only one in this part of the forest – oak trees normally grow fairly close together. And there should be acorns all over the ground – but there aren’t. I don’t think this tree has been here very long – but it ought to have been, to be this size.” She flew around the tree, examining the bark for any more oddities, but to the Piskies’ horror, when she was on the other side of the tree she suddenly screamed.

 

* * *

 

“This way,” Azelma whispered as they flew through the passage. “If I remember correctly, there’s a way out just up ahead.”

Enjolras suddenly stopped dead. “And who’s that? The doorman?”

The other Faeries noticed what he was staring at, and stopped as sharply as he had. Up ahead and blocking the passage was something huge and white, with six limbs and a lizard-like face.

“I think it’s one of the Vault Monsters,” Éponine said quietly.

Courfeyrac nodded, shivering. “And I think he brought a friend. Look!”

Indeed, a second Monster was crawling down from the ceiling. This one was blue and looked like a ginormous spider, except it had a human face, and human hands at the end of its two front legs. It lifted the human hands, and thick green smoke began filling the air – evidently a defensive gas secreted by the creature, and possibly deadly. In fact, knowing Votirlu, probably.

“Charmix convergence!” Cosette shouted. She and Courfeyrac raised their hands. “Firewall!”

A bright green shield that flickered with orange flames stretched across the corridor, shielding them from the gas. Éponine raised an eyebrow as it cleared. “They don’t seem awfully friendly.”

“No wonder!” Courfeyrac gasped. “Check out the marks on their faces!”

The Amis looked closer, and realised both Monsters had scarlet scars raised between their eyes – scars shaped like a backwards F and a T inside a circle.

“The mark of Tholomyès!” Cosette gasped.

Jehan wrinkled their nose. “I’m guessing it’s an outbreak.”

The spiderish one released more green gas, while the more reptilian one opened its mouth, spitting flames towards them. Courfeyrac hurried to reinforce the shield.

“Uh, I don’t mean to put pressure on you Enchantix Faeries,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “but –”

“I got this one,” Musichetta assured him. “Faery Dust!” The little bottle popped off her necklace, releasing the silvery dust into the air as soon as the cork came loose. Courfeyrac counted down from three on his fingers, before lowering the shield, and Musichetta immediately blew the dust towards the Monsters, who instantly halted their attack. Their eyes were wide and confused, and Azelma approached them slowly.

“We were sent by my father, Headmaster Thénardier, to find you,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “We were hoping you could help us.”

The Reptile gazed down at her, and Cosette briefly wondered if they could speak or even understand any humanoid language, but then it opened its mouth and spoke in perfect English, in a voice that was low and raspy. “You have freed us from Tholomyès,” it said, and to the shock of all, it knelt and bowed before her, as did the spider. “We are in your debt.”

“Name it and we’ll do it,” the Spider added. Its voice was less raspy, but so deep they had to strain to understand it.

“We need to know what happened to the Headmaster of our school,” Cosette explained. “Professor Myriel.”

Both Monsters nodded rapidly. “Tholomyès trapped the teacher in the forest,” the Reptile explained. “Locked him away by transmuting his body into that of another – a mighty, knotted oak tree. His face pokes through the bark as a reminder of what happens to those who cross Tholomyès.” Behind him, the Spider spat on the ground at the mention of the hated Warlock’s name, but the Amis barely noticed, horrified at what had happened to their beloved Headmaster.

 

* * *

 

The Monsters were grateful enough to show them a way through the passages to an exit that led to the main road, meaning they wouldn’t have to fight their way out. Enjolras teleported them back to Musain, and Azelma headed inside while the Amis themselves headed back out into the forest to find the Piskies.

Their bond made it easy, and they found their friends gathered around an enormous oak tree, staring up at the bark. Cosette hurried over to see what they were looking at, and gasped upon seeing the face that was seemingly carved into the tree. Myriel’s eyes were screwed shut, his mouth open in a yell, and pain was etched into every line of the wizened old face.

“Myriel…” she whispered. Éponine narrowed her eyes.

“But is it really him?”

Jehan touched their hands to the bark, focussing for a second before nodding sadly. “It _is_ him.”

“Wizgiz probably has a spell to fix this, right?” Enjolras asked hopefully, but Jehan shook their head.

“It’s not that simple,” they sighed. “Remember how long it took me to free Azelma when she was turned into a pumpkin? This is an entirely different curse, and far more difficult to work. I can’t free him, and I doubt even Wizgiz can.”

Courfeyrac pulled out his dreambug again, but frowned when it made a sad beeping noise. “My dreambug can’t pick anything up about the spell used.”

“That’s because this is ancient hibernation magic,” Jehan explained. “It’s very rare, as opposed to the simple but powerful transmutation magic Patron-Minette used.”

“We need to find a way to free him,” Cosette said firmly. Éponine nodded, scowling at the tree.

“Yeah, what’s so special about hibernation magic?”

Jehan sighed. “It’s known only to the most ancient Faeries, only one of whom lives in our Dimension. And no one knows the location of Alcistos’ cave.”

“Well, we’ve got to find it,” Éponine said firmly. She put a hand on the bark of the tree. “Headmaster Myriel, I don’t know if you can hear me, but we’re going to save you, I promise.”

Cosette copied Éponine, placing her hand on the other side of the trunk. “Yes! We’re going to find Alcistos’ cave, and learn the secret to hibernation magic.”

“Sir, you’ve helped all of us,” Musichetta added. “It’s high time we returned the favour.”

 

* * *

 

“Not if _I_ have anything to say about it,” Babet sneered as he watched the Amis through the crystal ball. Behind him, his cousins narrowed their eyes.

 _I’ll stop those Faeries, and I’ll do it alone!_ Gueulemer decided.

A slow smirk appeared on Claquesous’ face. _Those two buffoons will never outsmart me._

The three Witches cracked identical smirks without realising it. _And then Tholomyès will be all mine!_

 

* * *

 

At the edge of the woods, just far enough from Musain to not be seen, a pair of boot-clad feet touched down on a branch, the owner crouching in a tree and surveying the school with narrow violet eyes – which widened when the person picked up the sound of six people heading towards him. He pulled his cloak tighter around his body, blending in with the trees – but when the intruders passed him, he recognised one instantly.

_Princess Musichetta._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who is this mysterious stranger?
> 
> You can guess if you want, but I'm not saying anything...


	12. In Which Gavroche Only Wanted To Be Like Éponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now knowing what has happened to Myriel, the Amis set out to discover a cure - but they have some unwanted followers...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!!

As Manon tipped a tiny watering can over the roots of the oak tree, Juliette fluttered up to talk to the wizened old face. “Is that enough water, Headmaster Myriel?”

The tree remained silent, and Juliette sadly stroked the bark. “Don’t worry, Headmaster. Les Amis are on their way to find Alcistos, to help them break the spell.”

Neither of the Piskies noticed the cloaked boy concealed in the forest a few metres away from them, but upon hearing where the Amis were headed, he grinned and backed further into the shadows. With a flick of his wrist, he vanished.

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès sat at the desk in Thénardier’s study, carefully examining an ancient book. Upon finding what he was looking for, he pressed his hand to the page, focussing, before pulling away to examine the ball of blue light he’d extracted.

“Perfect,” he hummed. “The Cobalt Charge.” He turned to Patron-Minette, who were watching him closely. “Hmmmm…. Gueulemer, come forward. I want to give you a little token of my appreciation.”

_Yesss!_ Gueulemer grinned, moving to stand in front of the desk. Behind him, his cousins looked less pleased.

“Why _him?”_ Babet demanded. Tholomyès glanced at him, looking slightly irritated.

“Because I said so,” he replied coolly, before turning back to Gueulemer. He didn’t say anything more; but abruptly flung the ball of blue light at him. Gueulemer gasped as the Coblat Charge hit him, before grinning wildly. Tholomyès surveyed him with an amused smile playing around his mouth. “How does it feel?”

Gueulemer pressed his hands together and separated them slowly. Pure electricity crackled between his palms. “Shocking,” he whispered delightedly. Babet and Claquesous exchanged an irritated glance, but before they could say anything they were interrupted by a knock at the door. Tholomyès nodded slightly and the door swung open, revealing the cloaked boy, who marched into the room, ignoring Patron-Minette entirely.

“Tholomyès,” he said when he reached the desk, a sense of urgency and importance seeping into his monotone. “Les Amis have set off to seek someone named Alcistos.”

Tholomyès looked thoughtful. “They seek to undo my curse on Myriel. Thank you, Montparnasse.”

Montparnasse bowed and left the room, and Tholomyès turned to face the window. “You know,” he mused, “it would be nice if someone were to take care of those Faeries for me…”

Gueulemer grinned. “I’ll do it,” he volunteered. “It’ll give me a chance to try out my new power.” As he headed for the door, he smirked at Babet and Claquesous. “Later.”

The second the door closed behind him, Babet twitched angrily before heading after him. “I’ve also got something to take care of,” he barked in explanation.

Claquesous frowned after him, not picking up on what his deal was.

 

* * *

 

Éponine had insisted on making a detour with Enjolras before they headed to Lynphea – to her home planet, Arioson, for reasons she wouldn’t explain, but insisted that it was a surprise. They returned to Musain about an hour after they’d left – and they had someone else with them too!

“Hi, Gavroche!” Musichetta said excitedly. Gavroche grinned up at her with all the gap-toothed charm of a twelve-year-old boy. He had grown a few inches since the first time she’d met him, last year at the Autumn Concert.

“Musichetta, right?” he said, in what might have been an attempt to sound suave but just came off as adorable. “It’s been too long.”

Éponine nudged him, rolling her eyes. “OK, pup, we get it, you’re a big boy now, you’ve grown two inches since the last time she saw you.”

Gavroche pouted at her. “I _am_ grown up. I have my powers now!”

“You do?” Jehan beamed. “Oh, that’s wonderful!”

“Uh huh!” Gavroche said, smugly looking at Éponine as if to say ‘see? I can talk to your friends and be cool about it’. “I’m the future Faery of Hidden Things! Or Witch,” he added contemplatively. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“He’s got a real knack for noticing detail,” Éponine added, sounding quite proud. “Not to mention sensing invisible barriers, hidden places – it’s crazy. Which is why I thought he’d be the perfect person to help us on this mission.”

“So where are we going?” Gavroche said impatiently. “Who are we fighting? If it’s that green Witch from last time, I’m ready to kick his –”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Cosette interrupted hurriedly. “There won’t be any fighting, hopefully. No, we were wondering if you could help us find Alcistos’ cave.”

Gavroche looked disappointed, but nodded. “Sure. On Magix, or what?”

“Most likely on Lynphea,” Jehan said. “But if it is, it’s well concealed.”

“No cave can hide from me,” Gavroche insisted. “Let’s go already!”

Enjolras’ teleporting spell got them to Lynphea barely a second later, and they found themselves in a beautiful grove full of wildly growing flowers and tiny glittering insects. Jehan looked delighted to be home.

“Oh, Lynphea, I’ve missed you so much,” they beamed, stroking the edges of a pinkish lily. Musichetta joined them, looking awed.

“This place is beautiful,” she gasped. Enjolras sneezed loudly behind her.

“My nose doesn’t agree,” he muttered. “Let’s just find the cave and then hopefully go somewhere that I’m not allergic to.”

Gavroche tilted his head, apparently listening to the surroundings. “There’s something in that direction –” he pointed north – “that doesn’t want us listening to it. I’d say that’s our best bet.”

“That’s the City of Trees,” Jehan said excitedly. “Come on, this way!”

 

* * *

 

“Portal of realms and tunnel of light, give me a passage through which to take flight!”

With a crackle of electricity, a portal opened on the Windswept Terrace in front of Gueulemer, making him smirk proudly. Annoyingly, someone interrupted his internal gloating.

“An interdimensional passageway?” Babet said coolly. “That’s pretty fancy. Funny, that spell always used to give you trouble…”

Gueulemer turned to growl at his cousin, who stared haughtily back. “What’s with the attitude, Babs?”

Babet looked shocked, but only for a second. “What makes you so sure you can do this all by yourself?” he fired back.

“You’re just pissy that Tholomyès gave _me_ new powers and didn't give _you_ anything!”

“But why you?” Babet hissed. Gueulemer glared down at the shorter boy.

“Jealous? Maybe he likes me.”

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès watched the two cousins argue before Gueulemer finally flipped Babet off and jumped into the portal. A satisfied smirk spread across his face when a second later, Babet followed him.

 

* * *

 

The City of Trees was beautiful, and it was literally a city of trees – everywhere they looked, trees wider than a house and too tall to see the top spread their roots and reached up to the sky, giving them the feeling that they were the kind of storybook fairies Cosette had read about when she was small.

“So, what way now?” Cosette asked. Gavroche squinted for a moment before nodding decisively.

“Up.”

“Up?”

“Yeah. The concealment magic is at the top of that tree.”

“The top?”

“The top.”

“I hope there’s a hyper-speed elevator in the tree trunk, or something,” Courfeyrac commented, but Jehan sighed and shook their head.

“That would be nice, Courf, but technology is forbidden in the City of Trees.”

“Then I guess we’re going to have to fly up,” Musichetta said, but Jehan shook their head again.

“We won’t be able to – the winds that blow down from the mountains are too strong. We’d never make it.”

“So how do we get to the top?” Cosette asked. She was half expecting Jehan to announce that they had to climb, but to her relief they pointed to a large blue carriage-like structure shaped a bit like a leaf.

“Easy. We’ll take an air-leaf.”

 

* * *

 

Gueulemer watched them from behind a tree, his delight growing when he noticed Gavroche. The little twerp who’d helped Éponine kick his butt last year was in the perfect position for Gueulemer to get revenge on him too. He ducked back into the brush as they climbed onto the blue leaf thing. Time to get to some higher ground…

 

* * *

 

“Well, it feels sturdy,” Cosette announced, sitting down in the middle of the air-leaf. Gavroche and the rest of the Amis followed her, Enjolras getting on last and looking a bit nervous.

“Are we sure this thing is safe?”

“Totally,” Jehan reassured him. “Just hold on tight.” Enjolras took their advice, clinging to the side as the air-leaf rose into the air.

 

* * *

 

“What goes up,” Gueulemer muttered nastily, “must come down.” He pressed his palms together, pulling them apart to create the pure electricity Tholomyès’ gift had made possible for him. Without a verbal command, or even too much focus, the electricity warped and split into three sections, twisting into the shapes of – “Storm Harpies,” Gueulemer whispered in amazement. “I can create anything!”

 

* * *

 

“Does it have to go this fast?” Enjolras complained. Jehan nodded apologetically.

“It has to, in order to push past the wind. Just don’t look down.”

“Why not?” Enjolras gingerly peered over the side of the air-leaf, and promptly realised that they were cruising at 40mph 100 feet above the ground. “Oh,” he said, sounding very small, and also like he might be sick. Cosette yanked him back into the middle of the air-leaf.

“Don’t look up either,” Éponine commented, sounding a little worried. “I think we’re heading into a storm.”

Indeed, threatening grey clouds were swirling directly overhead – which was odd, considering they weren’t above the tree line. Jehan opened their mouth to comment, but their attention was completely caught by the Thing that swooped down towards the air-leaf. “WHAT IS THAT?”

An astonishingly ugly face surrounded by matted green hair connected to a human body with wings instead of arms and bird’s legs stared down at them. They felt a rush of wind under the air-leaf, and then one low over their heads, and suddenly there were three of the Things.

“Storm Harpies?” Musichetta gasped. “But I thought they only existed in Faery Tales!”

“Some people think that about us,” Cosette pointed out nervously. The Storm Harpies clustered together, moving through the sky like lightening blurs, and overtook the air-leaf. To the Amis’ horror, they twisted around and shot towards it like bullets.

“They’re trying to knock us out of the sky!” Courfeyrac realised. Cosette got to her feet.

“In that case, we need to defend ourselves. Amis Charmix!” She, Courfeyrac and Éponine all transformed with flashes of white light. As soon as they were done, Musichetta, Enjolras and Jehan got to their feet.

“Amis Enchantix!” With swirls of coloured light – green, yellow and pink for Musichetta; red, blue and gold for Enjolras; and pink, green and orange for Jehan – they too had transformed, and the fight was on.

As the first Storm Harpy swooped, Courfeyrac easily blasted it with green light, disintegrating it.

“Nice shot!” Jehan whooped – a moment too soon, because three more Harpies swooped out of the eye of the storm.

“More Harpies at three o’clock!” Éponine shouted. Back to back with her, Cosette looked confused.

“Whose three o’clock?”

“Yours,” Éponine replied, “but now it’s more like eight-thirty!”

A Harpy swooped low, forcing Enjolras to dive out of its way – but the only direction he had to move was towards the edge of the air-leaf, which bumped in mid-air as a Harpy nudged it from below. With a yell, Enjolras was knocked off the leaf, only just managing to cling to the edge. As Musichetta hurried towards him, two Harpies noticed his predicament and swooped down for the kill.

“Not on my watch, assholes!” Cosette yelled, blasting both Harpies with fire, easily disintegrating them.

“Watch the language around Gav, would you?” Éponine said, sounding more amused than annoyed.

“I’ve heard worse from you,” Gavroche pointed out as two of the remaining Harpies flew towards them. Meanwhile, Musichetta was doing her best to reel Enjolras in, but to no avail.

“I can’t pull you in!” she shouted over the gale. “The winds are too strong!”

Enjolras came to a decision. “Let go of me,” he told her. “I’ll try to fly.”

“No!” Musichetta gasped. “It’s too dangerous!”

“Just let me try, OK?” Enjolras insisted. “I promise I’ll be OK.”

With one final, terrified look at him, Musichetta let go as Enjolras spread his wings. But to the surprise and amazement of all, he didn’t plummet to his death or even stray off course! He was flying, even in the wind!

“My Enchantix wings are more powerful than the wind!” he realised delightedly. Cosette gave a whoop from inside the air-leaf.

“Go, Enj!”

They were so busy watching Enjolras fly that they nearly forgot they were in a battle, but a Harpy reminded them by grabbing onto the bottom of the air-leaf and rocking it wildly enough that Gavroche was bumped up into the air. Jehan managed to take out two of the Harpies, but the one underneath the air-leaf rocked it again – this time knocking Gavroche right over the side!

“GAVROCHE!” Éponine shrieked. Cosette grabbed the little boy’s hands, and Courfeyrac grabbed onto her waist, and together they pulled Gavroche back into the air-leaf. Far from the terror Éponine had expected, he looked exhilarated.

“WOO-HOO! Can I do that again?”

“Absolutely not!” Éponine gasped. The air above them lit up with gold and pink light as Enjolras and Musichetta shot down multiple Harpies.

“Like the taste of sunlight?” Enjolras taunted them. “Well, there’s more where that came from!”

“Jehan, get up here!” Musichetta added. Jehan grinned and spread their new wings, easily fluttering up to join them.

“I never thought I’d be able to fly through the City of Trees,” they said in amazement, casually blasting over their shoulder at a Harpy that had tried to sneak up on them. “I love it!

Their green light joined the flurry of pink and gold, while Cosette and Courfeyrac took over shooting from the air-leaf. Éponine, meanwhile, hugged her brother tightly.

“Don’t worry, Gav. We’ve got this.”

“Duh, you’ve got this,” Gavroche replied, with the level of unflusteredness that only twelve-year-olds can manage. “You’re Les Amis.”

“Hear that, Courf?” Cosette grinned, shooting three consecutive fireballs. “Gavroche is a fan!”

“We’d better not let him down,” Courfeyrac laughed, easily zapping four Harpies with more electricity. With the Enchantix Air Force, soon they were back down to only three Harpies, which upon seeing they were outnumbered, immediately flew directly for the air-leaf.

“Three on three,” Enjolras muttered. “Come on, guys!” With a final blast from each Enchantix, the sky was once again Harpy-free and Musichetta, Enjolras and Jehan landed back on the air-leaf. “Mission accomplished!”

“Just in time too,” Jehan added. “We’re here!”

The Amis gasped at the sight before them. The City of Trees was breath-taking: the majority of the trees held white houses in hundreds of shapes with windows made of stained glass. The branches were so thick they could have probably held Musain up, and they connected with the other trees, forming roads between neighbourhoods. The sun winked off the delicate spires of a mansion, and made the little puddles that had formed in the bark in some places sparkle like mirrors.

“Beautiful,” Cosette whispered. Jehan nodded beside her as they climbed out of the air-leaf and detransformed.

“It’s home.”

 

* * *

 

As the storm clouds faded, Gueulemer tried in vain to create more Harpies to go after those wretched Faeries, but to no avail. “Dragon-dammit!” he cursed.

 

* * *

 

Even though Jehan probably knew their way around best, Gavroche took the lead, heading down the twisty paths and across a little bridge made of flowered vines, towards a tree with leaves so relatively low and thick they couldn’t even make out any buildings on the branches. Jehan looked a little worried.

“I’ve never been this far out before,” they said nervously.

“Because you wouldn’t be able to reach the bridge unless you were looking for it,” Gavroche said matter-of-factly. “It’s pretty basic concealment magic. This whole tree stinks of it.”

As Cosette wondered if Gavroche was being metaphorical, or if he could actually smell the difference between this tree and the rest, the little boy pushed aside a leaf taller than Musichetta, revealing a dark tunnel. “This way!” he called confidently.

The walls of the tunnel felt soft and damp, and Cosette realised they were made of soft leaves folding around them. The tunnel seemed to go on forever, but Courfeyrac’s watch showed that it had only been three minutes when they at last spotted light up ahead. The Amis sped up and exited into a – well, a cave.

Like the tunnel, the walls were made of leaves; but instead of darkness this place was lit with thousands of floating candles that smelled light and sweet (“Fumigari Odoribus,” Jehan whispered, “more commonly known as a Peace Plant.” And indeed, the very air seemed to pulse with tranquillity). There were no tiles or carpets on the floor; only the gnarled wood of the tree, twisting to form a staircase up towards what seemed to be a throne, upon which was sat –

“Alcistos,” Jehan whispered. “The last Ancient Faery of our dimension.”

Alcistos blinked at them from her throne, a slow smile spreading across her face. Like Professor Mabeuf, she showed the typical signs of being immortal: her face was lined with age, but her body was still young and powerful. Her throne was seemingly carved out of the tree itself, and her coppery hair tangled into the twists and turns of the wood. She wore a long green dress and cloak, and her pale gold wings glimmered in the dim light. Her eyes were faded – perhaps once green, but had slowly turned pale with time; perhaps the effect of living in a cave for so long.

“I knew you would come,” she said softly. Her voice was quiet and low, but there was something intrinsically powerful about it. “Step closer, all of you, so I can see you better.”

As one, the Amis approached the bottom of the steps up to her throne, and her milky eyes flickered over them, understanding settling onto her face. “You seek to undo the curse that has your friend trapped in a tree,” she said. It wasn’t a question; somehow she’d known just by looking at them. “To free your friend from Tholomyès’ curse, the sands of Time must be reversed.”

“How do we -?” Enjolras started, but Alcistos interrupted him.

“You must journey to the place where the tree weeps,” Alcistos said cryptically. Courfeyrac’s eye twitched, and she laughed, a whispering sound that rushed around them like wind. “Not one for riddles, I see? I’ll put it plainly: you must reverse the flow of Time. Aeons ago, two sisters, Willow and Magnolia, ruled over Vrokerea, which was once the capital city of Arioson.”

Éponine exchanged a glance with Gavroche. “Vrokerea is a single village at the edge of a wasteland,” the older Thénardier said, frowning. “It’s been that way for almost all of living memory.”

“Indeed,” Alcistos nodded, “but it wasn’t always that way. It was once a beautiful and prosperous land, until a deadly fire took Magnolia’s life, and badly injured Willow. Unable to stay where her sister had lived and died, Willow left Vrokerea and chose to live in a cave at the top of a nearby mountain instead. Saddened by the loss of her sister, she began to weep, and her tears formed a pond around her, and the pond eventually became a waterfall – but Willow wishes so hard she could turn back time and save her sister, the water always flows up instead of down. She lives on in the cave as a willow tree, with tears dripping off her branches.”

“The water flows… _backwards?”_ Musichetta murmured. Alcistos nodded.

“The water cannot bring back Magnolia, but it _can_ reverse the flow of time, and it is this quality that can save your friend.”

“So all we have to do is collect some water from the waterfall?” Cosette though aloud.

“Then we can pour it on the roots of the Myriel tree,” Enjolras realised. “It will reverse time to the moment before he was turned!”

“Indeed,” Alcistos said, “but you must do so quickly. Like all transmutation magic, hibernation magic does eventually become irreversible. I believe you have until midnight tonight to reverse a curse like that.”

“Let’s go, then,” Cosette said, and the Amis all bowed to Alcistos before leaving her cave. Her voice echoed through the tunnel after them:

“Be careful, and good luck to you all!”

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès scowled into the crystal ball as Enjolras cast the spell to teleport the Amis to Arioson. When they vanished, he switched the image to first Gueulemer, trying and failing to climb a tree, and then Babet, struggling through the bushes about a kilometre south of the City of Trees. “Claquesous,” he hummed, looking up at the only Witch who had remained in the room with him. “Pray tell me, what planet are Babet and Gueulemer on?”

“L-Lynphea?” Claquesous said uncertainly. Tholomyès nodded, which she took as an encouraging sign.

“And what planet will Les Amis be on in precisely… five seconds?”

“Arioson,” Claquesous said with more confidence. Tholomyès nodded again, sighing.

“So why are your idiot cousins still on Lynphea and not following them?”

Claquesous was about to point out that Gueulemer and Babet were at a disadvantage to Les Amis and that it probably wasn’t their fault, but then she remembered that by going to Lynphea they were trying to outdo her in Tholomyès’ eyes, and changed her mind about trying to shift the blame from them.

“They’re idiots,” she announced. “They’re completely incompetent without me telling them what to do, and they have no idea of how to use one’s environment to one’s advantage.”

“Exactly what I thought,” Tholomyès smirked. For a moment, Claquesous wondered if he might be about to instruct her to go to Arioson and finish off Les Amis herself, but no such luck. “Go and pull those idiots out of the bushes and go after Les Amis as a group.”

Claquesous nodded, leaving the room and heading up to the Windswept Terrace, where Gueulemer’s portal was still open. It wasn’t quite the solo mission she’d been hoping for, but perhaps if she instructed those two buffoons well enough it would turn Tholomyès’ favour towards her.

 

* * *

 

Les Amis landed on Arioson, at the edge of a quaint little fishing village, beyond which stretched a glittering blue ocean, but next to which stretched a brown, dusty plain, with mountains rising up in the distance.

“Behold, Vrokerea,” Gavroche said grandly. “If you like fish and dust, this is the perfect holiday location for you. Shall we?” He made to start across the plain, but Éponine grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

“Not so fast, little pup.”

Gavroche made a face at Éponine. “Aw, come on, Poni, I got you to Alcistos’ cave alright, didn’t I?”

“You did,” Éponine agreed, “but this next part of the mission will be seriously dangerous. As in, Faeries only.” Gavroche opened his mouth to point out that he might be a Faery, but Éponine clocked onto his argument and added, “Fully grown Faeries who can transform. You can’t transform yet; most people don’t manage it until they’re sixteen or over. Sorry, Gav. This one isn’t your fight.” She rummaged in her pocket and handed him some money. “Here, this should be enough to ride the glass-bottomed ferry back home.”

Gavroche pouted but took the money, and stumped off into the fishing village. The Amis called goodbyes after him, but he didn’t look back or wave. Éponine sighed. “Dragon, I hate making him pout like that now that we’re getting along.” She shook herself, and turned back towards the plain. “Alright, who’s up for some hiking?”

 

* * *

 

“What, trying to hog the Faeries for yourself?”

Babet looked up sharply from the root he’d been trying to unstick his foot from. Upon seeing his cousin, he scowled. “Claquesous.”

“What, you wanna become Tholomyès’ Number One Witch?” Claquesous continued, making Babet’s scowl deepen.

“I don’t _want to,_ Claquesous. I already _am.”_

“What you _are_ , Babs,” Claquesous said coldly, “is a total _idiot.”_ Her voice turned smug. “At least, that’s what _Félix_ thinks.”

“Why you little –” Babet snarled. The root around his ankle broke, and free of his constraints, he forewent magic and launched himself at her, spitting and yowling and scratching for her face. Claquesous ducked away and kicked him in the ankle, managing to hit the spot the root had been irritating, knocking him to the ground with a pterodactyl-screech. Babet angrily blasted shards of ice at her, but she ducked and swung her foot forwards, managing to make contact with his jaw. With Babet knocked back again, Claquesous took the opportunity to leap at him, but he kicked her off and scratched at her bare arms, leaving angry red marks on the pale skin. Claquesous yanked her right arm back and was about to swing for his face when suddenly –

“ _What_ are you _doing?”_ Gueulemer snorted from above them. He’d apparently given up on trying to climb trees since she’d seen him last. “Come _on._ Get a grip and grow up.”

“Don’t you start telling us what to do!” Babet snarled, getting to his feet. Claquesous got up too, looking equally angry. “You think you’re the Head Witch in Charge just because Félix gave you some new little power to play with?” He blasted his cousin with blue light, and was surprised to see Claquesous’ purple light joining his. Gueulemer was knocked onto his back, and sat up with a growl.

“Seriously? Your jealousy is out of control!”

“Oh yeah?” Babet prepared to blast him again, but was interrupted by Claquesous bursting out laughing.

“I can’t believe this!” she spluttered, bent double and clutching her stomach. “This is totally ridiculous!”

“What?” Babet snapped. Gueulemer didn’t look best pleased either. “What’s so funny?”

“We’re… actually… fighting… over… _a guy!”_ Claquesous cackled. A smile tugged at both Gueulemer’s and Babet’s lips.

“You’re right,” Babet chuckled. “It _is_ ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” Gueulemer agreed. “If we’re going to get rid of those Faeries, we’re gonna have to work together.”

Claquesous laughed harder than ever. “Now you sound like one of them!”

Gueulemer’s smile turned into a scowl. “I’m just saying,” he grunted. “We _are_ cousins.”

Babet raised an eyebrow. “‘Mer, are you getting all sentimental on us?”

Gueulemer scowled even harder. “Whatever, let’s just go.” He stumped off in the direction of the City of Trees again just as Claquesous managed to get her breath back. She snapped upright upon remembering Tholomyès’ instructions.

“Gueulemer, wait, you idiot! Get back here! THEY’RE NOT EVEN ON THIS PLANET ANYMORE!”

 

* * *

 

The water flowing up the side of the mountain was one of the coolest things Cosette had ever seen. It started from a pond about ten feet above their heads cut into the rock, and travelled up the mountain to a cave mouth about three quarters of the way up. The water cut into the mountainside, creating a natural path up to the cave. Musichetta squinted up at it contemplatively.

“It shouldn’t take us long to hike up there,” she said. “Maybe fifteen minutes at most, but probably more like ten.”

“Still, we don’t have any time to waste,” Jehan said, marching forwards. “Headmaster Myriel’s life depends on it.”

 

* * *

 

“What a weird place,” Claquesous frowned as she stared down from the top of the mountain. “The water’s flowing _up._ I wonder what makes it do that?”

“Who cares!” Babet snapped. “It’s the perfect place for an ambush!”

 

* * *

 

Clearly someone – an ancient someone – had got here before them and built a wooden walkway from the path all the way over to where the Willow tree stood in the water. As Alcistos had told them, tears dripped down her branches and splashed into the river. Cosette gazed in awe for a moment before starting forwards.

“OK, you guys wait here and I’ll collect the water.”

“No, wait!” Jehan pulled her back. “If the tears of the Willow can turn back Time, and you touch the water, then…” they trailed off, and Éponine finished the thought.

“Time might turn back for you too. We don’t know what might happen.”

Cosette nodded. “So what do we do?”

“Need a hand?” someone asked behind them, and the Amis turned to see Gavroche standing at the mouth of the cave. Éponine looked furious.

“Gav, what are you doing here?”

“You’re not the boss of me,” Gavroche said, raising his chin defiantly. “I can do what I want.”

Éponine fumed, but Cosette cleared her throat. “Time is running out for Headmaster Myriel,” she reminded the Music Faery. “What do we do?”

“I have an idea!” Enjolras grinned. “Check this out…” He reached out and picked up a dry pebble from the riverbank. “If we need to get magic water back to Myriel, how about…” the pebble warped and glowed, twisting into… “a magic goblet?” The goblet had a hinged lid, and Enjolras held it up for the Amis to inspect it. “This should do the trick.”

“Perfect!” Jehan smiled. Enjolras eased his way down onto the rock and knelt at the edge of the river, carefully scooping up the water while being careful not to touch it.

“Got it!” He straightened up, holding the filled goblet so it didn’t spill, but suddenly a burst of icy light knocked it from his hands. He scrambled to retrieve it, but too late – the water had already spilled back into the river.

“Hey there, Mes Amis,” Babet taunted, stepping onto the opposite riverbank. “Well, aren’t you all a long way from home?”

“What?” Cosette groaned. “Oh, not _you.”_

Gueulemer stepped over to stand next to his cousin. “You’d better get back to Musain School for Dorks before someone gets hurt.”

“Funny of you to say,” Courfeyrac sneered. “Because based on past recent interactions, I’d say you Witches are the only ones about to get hurt.”

Babet blasted ice shards that Courfeyrac easily ducked away from, and Cosette raised her fists. “Amis Charmix!” She, Courfeyrac and Éponine all transformed, while Jehan and Musichetta assumed their Enchantix forms. Enjolras, once again crouching by the riverbank, didn’t bother, more concerned with collecting the water.

Cosette blasted fire at Babet, but unfortunately he managed to turn it to ice and blast it right back at her, forcing her to dodge. “Hurry up, Enj!” she shouted.

“I’m on it!” Enjolras assured her. Gavroche hurried over to stand next to him. “Keep them busy!”

A blast of unusually powerful lightning from Gueulemer sent Jehan, Courfeyrac and Éponine flying into the cave wall just as Enjolras got up again. “I got it – ARGH!” A second blast knocked the goblet out of his hands again, and he scrambled to grab it before it shattered, unable to save the water.

Gueulemer blasted Jehan just as they got up again, but didn’t manage to dodge a Sound Attack from Éponine, and clutched at his ears as they rang unforgivingly. With a crack of thunder, he managed to break free from the spell, just as Babet got a lucky shot at Cosette and succeeded in freezing her to the wall from the neck down. Meanwhile, Claquesous reverted back to her favourite trick: creating copies of herself and surrounding her enemy, in this case Jehan. With the same curse coming from all sides, Jehan was unable to avoid the cursed ropes that twisted around their body. Meanwhile, Enjolras straightened up for a third time.

“I got more!” he announced cheerfully. Babet spun in mid-air and blasted ice at the goblet, once again knocking it out of the Faery’s hands. Enjolras scrambled to grab it, but tripped on the uneven ground, and the goblet hit the wall and shattered into a thousand pieces, which reverted from glass to rock as they hit the ground.

“Oopsie,” Babet grinned. “Looks like Headmaster Myriel’s not getting his special water.”

“Don’t worry,” Cosette scowled from the wall. “We’ll get more.”

Claquesous dramatically threw her head back as she laughed. “Oh, I don’t think so, but having a tree for a Headmaster isn’t so bad.”

“Yeah,” Gueulemer jeered. “He can't assign you any homework, and he’ll look really pretty in the autumn.”

“Claq,” Babet grinned, “would you be so kind as to do the… ah, honours?”

Claquesous didn’t reply, but walked to the riverbank and raised her hands. With a horrid bubbling sound, Dark magic pulsed from her fingertips and hit the water, which began to turn a horrid, infected black. The infection swirled out of the cave and curled around the waterfall, and it swam through the pool and climbed up the roots of the Willow, turning her branches black and her leaves a sickly white. Claquesous cackled wickedly at her creation, so caught up with her own brilliance that she didn’t see the fist coming for her face until it made contact.

“HOW DARE YOU!” Éponine screeched as Claquesous clutched at her nose. “THIS PLACE IS SACRED!” The Music Faery turned her attention to Gueulemer, and managed to grip both his wrists in fairly vicious Chinese burns until Babet blasted her away. Éponine landed hard on the riverbank, winded and gasping for breath.

“Told you someone might get hurt!” Babet cackled. He and his cousins grouped together and raised their hands, creating a powerful convergence blast. “So long, Little Miss Punch-Happy!”

“Poni!” Gavroche shouted. “Look out!” Éponine sat up at the same moment Patron-Minette unleashed their curse. Gavroche took a great running leap, and used his own body to shield Éponine from the spell. The curse sent his tiny body flying into the poisoned river.

Éponine screamed. Her scream, full of pain and rage, ricocheted around the cave in a burst of magenta light, so powerful it knocked Patron-Minette clean off their feet and shattered the ice imprisoning Cosette. Éponine paid them no mind, instead diving in after her brother. He was nearly at the bottom, and she managed to grab his arms, using the last of her strength to create an air-bubble around him so he could breath.

“Oh, Gav, why did you follow us?” she whispered. “I told you it wouldn’t be safe!”

Gavroche looked ashamed. “I just… I wanted to prove that I can fight just as well as you.”

“You can, and you will, little pup,” Éponine promised. “But this isn’t your fight. I love you, kiddo.” Her hands began to glow magenta.

“...Poni?” Gavroche said uneasily. “What are you doing?”

“That scream took a lot out of me,” Éponine murmured. “Bubble, bring him up.” She let go of his hands.

“Poni? Poni! PONI!” Gavroche screamed as the bubble rose, leaving Éponine behind it. Éponine smiled up at him and allowed herself to sink down to the bottom of the river. If one of them had to die, she was glad it wasn’t Gavroche.

As the bubble broke the surface of the river and settled on the bank, Gavroche continued to pound on the side until it popped.

“Gavroche?” Cosette asked, fluttering down beside him. “Where’s Éponine?”

Tears began pouring down Gavroche’s cheeks. “She saved me,” he whispered.

Patron-Minette was beginning to stir. The three Enchantix Faeries surrounded Cosette and the distraught Gavroche to protect them.

At the bottom of the river, Éponine felt the waterweeds wrapping around her, pulling her down to make her one of their own. She breathed out her last breath and allowed them to tie her down. _Gavroche is going to live_ , she thought deliriously. _He’s going to live._

All at once, she felt her body become lighter. She couldn’t feel the water any more, but she could breathe. _Is this what dying is like?_ Éponine wondered. She opened her eyes, to find that she was glowing gold. The rest of the world was white. She looked down at her body, and her clothes were changing. Pale gold gloves were spiralling down her arms, and the same golden material was woven into the strap of a pink and purple top and the belt of a purple and blue skirt. Footless sandals swirled onto her feet, and she felt her hair growing until it was ankle-length. She caught a glimpse of more gold whipping past her face - ribbons weaving into her hair. Her shoulder blades began to tingle, and she could feel enormous wings sprouting from them. She must be becoming an angel!

Éponine beat her new wings and flew for the heavens - and to her surprise, broke the surface of the poisoned river.

“PONI!” Gavroche yelled. Éponine blinked, and realised she was back in the cave. She wasn’t dead. She was an Enchantix!

As Patron-Minette sat up, Éponine reached for the tiny pink bottle that hung from a golden choker around her neck and popped the lid off. Bright pink Faery Dust spiralled through the air, landing on the Willow and in the river, and with a glitter of powerful magic, the Willow’s leaves turned green again! As the trunk began to turn back to its normal dark brown and the water cleared, three of the Willow’s branches stretched up towards the Witches, who were beginning to look like they wished they’d picked a different location to ambush the Amis. The branches wrapped around them, lifting them into the air, and as they kicked and screamed, the Willow dropped Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer right into the water!

“Congrats, Ponine!” Enjolras whooped.

“You look amazing,” Musichetta added.

Gavroche merely gaped at his sister. “You saved my life,” he whispered. Éponine grinned.

“You saved mine first.”

“I guess I did,” Gavroche murmured. Éponine’s smile softened, becoming warm and fond.

“I’m proud of you, Gav,” she said, quietly but firmly. “You’re going to make a great warrior some day – Faery _or_ Witch.”

“Provided you don’t take the same path as them,” Jehan chuckled, pointing to where Patron-Minette was sheepishly climbing out of the river. “I’ve heard evil-doing can have some pretty nasty side-effects…”

Indeed, Patron-Minette looked different. Instead of standing at their normal heights (5’9, 5’6 and 6’1 respectively), Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer were now all barely over five feet tall! It seemed Time had reversed for them by about eight years, and the three twelve-year-olds now standing in front of them were nowhere near as threatening as their fully grown counterparts.

“I forgot your hair used to look like that,” Babet sneered at Claquesous, who embarrassedly covered her awkwardly cut fringe.

“Oh, whatever,” she growled. “You’re one to talk. Go look in a mirror.”

Babet glanced into the reflective surface of the water, and groaned upon remembering he’d had a really stubborn cowlick when he was twelve. Meanwhile, Gueulemer had the oddly plaster-coated look of someone who didn’t know how to take care of curly hair. “You’ll pay for this, Amis!” he growled, but his voice cracked embarrassingly. He raised his hands to summon a lightning bolt – and shrieked with annoyance when he was unable to form more than a small crackle.

Cosette tutted, a smirk curling around her mouth. “No bickering,” she grinned, “or we’ll have to make a call to your parents.”

At the mention of their parents, all three Witches looked terrified, and dashed for the cave’s exit. The Amis burst out laughing, and Enjolras picked up another rock and transformed it into a goblet, carefully filling it with the healed water.

 

* * *

 

They made it back to Musain at six o’clock that evening, and immediately headed to the Myriel tree, where Cosette knelt down with the goblet. “Let’s hope this works,” she said, before carefully dripping the magic water onto the tree’s roots.

Three drops did it. With a flash of golden light, the tree warped and shrank, and Cosette scrambled away, careful not to upset the goblet. The tree shrank all the way down to an acorn, before (with a great explosion that sent several affronted birds shrieking out of the nearby treetops) it turned back into a man. Myriel stood before them, panting heavily, but apparently uninjured. They had done it!

“Thank you, Mes Amis,” he said at last, smiling happily. “I knew I could count on you.”

 

* * *

 

In a nearby beech tree, the young man pulled his cloak tighter around him as he squinted at the teenagers surrounding the old man. He hadn’t been entirely sure the night before, but now he knew for certain who the red-haired girl with the beautiful smile was.

_Princess Musichetta. I’ve finally found you._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a warning, the next two chapters are going to be pretty dark. You might have guessed what will happen, you might not have. Any guesses?
> 
> Also, any guesses as to who this young man searching for Musichetta is? ;)
> 
> Thanks for reading!!


	13. In Which Courfeyrac Is The Bravest Of Them All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since Tholomyès escaped, the Omega Island has become unstable and it's up to Les Amis to either fix it, or evacuate Andros before the entire planet is destroyed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm very sorry for what I'm about to do.
> 
> This is actually one of the first chapters I wrote - well, the end of it, anyway.
> 
> Once again, I am terribly sorry. I cried writing this.

“It’s all going according to plan,” Tholomyès said softly as he gazed into the crystal ball. It currently showed a picture of the Omega Island on Andros, which looked a little different from the last time he’d seen it. Now there was a swirling vortex of wind shooting up from the crack he’d left in the centre of the island.

“What’s happening?” Gueulemer frowned, peering over his shoulder.

“Yeah, what’s going on?” Babet asked, shoving Gueulemer out of the way and standing on his tiptoes. Tholomyès grinned.

“Everything is going perfectly. The Omega Portal will soon give way, and when it finally does, all of the Dark energy of the Omega Dimension will be released into _this_ realm.”

“And what will happen to Andros?” Claquesous asked curiously. Tholomyès’ grin widened, and he pointed at the image in the crystal ball.

“Have a look for yourself.” As the three Witches gathered around the orb, he continued, “The Omega Dimension is filled with the worst criminals, monsters and Dark Beings in the Magic Dimension. When their energy is unleashed, they will destroy everything in their path. Andros won’t stand a chance.”

Indeed, as they watched, something crawled out of the portal – something man-shaped, but with huge fangs and covered from neck to toe in thick, tufted fur. The Witches shuddered as Tholomyès laughed softly. “Aah, Magmar, the first Werewolf – and one of our species’ first predators. He hungers for the taste of human flesh so much, he will hunt even when there is no moon to empower him, and kill even when his prey is only partly human.” His grin turned nasty. “He’s a cannibal.”

“A… cannibal?” Gueulemer shivered. Tholomyès continued to gaze into the ball.

“One of many,” Tholomyès murmured. “I believe we’ll see the monsters crawling up first. Then the criminals. The Dark Beings are deeper… much, _much_ deeper.”

 

* * *

 

Myriel was shocked to say the least when Lamarque crashed through his office door just as he was about to retire for the night. The other headmaster looked to be in some state of panic, and gasped out an explanation even before Myriel asked him to.

“Myriel – the Omega Portal is reaching its breaking point. If it gives way, Andros will be destroyed and its people killed.” He grabbed the edge of the desk, panting heavily; clearly he’d run to Musain. “This is the work of Félix Tholomyès. Not only would Andros not survive, the Dark energy of the prisoners would wreak havoc upon the rest of the Magic Dimension. They are there because our world could barely handle them one at a time. To unleash all of them at once –”

“Would be catastrophic,” Myriel finished, feeling rather sick at the thought. “I’d better wake Musichetta, and of course her friends will want to know as well.”

 

* * *

 

The Amis were surprised to receive a wake-up call at nearly one in the morning, but when Javert explained Myriel needed to see them about a situation on Andros, Musichetta ran to his office still in her pyjamas. The others hurried to get dressed and follow her, but by the time they arrived in the study, Musichetta was sitting down with her face in her hands, and Myriel was standing at the window, looking unusually grim.

“Chetta?” Cosette said quietly. “What’s happened?”

Musichetta looked up from her hands, her face shining with tears. “My planet…” she whispered, “…it… it’s going to die. All of it… will be destroyed… within less than a week.” Ignoring her friends’ shocked reactions, she gazed up at Myriel with pleading eyes. “Sir, I’m the Princess of Andros. My people are in danger; I need to go and do what I can to protect them.”

Myriel shook his head. “I can’t let you go alone; it would be far too dangerous.”

“She won’t be alone!” Enjolras said, sounding scandalised at the very thought. “We’ll all go with her.”

“We’d never let anyone face something like this alone,” Cosette added fiercely. Courfeyrac nodded firmly.

“Sir, please let us go. We need to do what we can to save the people of Andros.”

Myriel frowned as he gazed at the six young faces, all wearing the same determined expression, and finally nodded. “Very well. But no taking unnecessary risks; if the portal gives way I want you to return to Musain immediately.”

 

* * *

 

Courfeyrac used his green turtle-shaped wormhole-device to open a portal to the main balcony of the palace of Andros, this time set to allow six people to pass through, and the Amis lined up to enter it. They didn’t need to, but in a moment of impulse, they grasped each others’ hands and walked into the portal as one.

 

* * *

 

Queen Narissa held herself up with her crutches as she gazed over the roiling ocean at the Omega Island in the distance. The vortex was visible even from two miles away. The sky cracked with irregular lightning, caused by no spell, but rather seemingly formed by the Dark energy pouring from the centre of the island. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned to gaze worriedly at her husband.

“Terredor,” she whispered, “what will become of our world?”

Terredor was silent, and for a second looked less like an imposing king and more like a scared child. “Let’s go back inside,” he said after a moment. “It’s too dangerous out here.”

He helped her around towards the door, but at that moment a guard came barrelling out towards them. “Your majesties,” he gasped, “more monsters have escaped from the portal. The Mermaid guard will soon be overwhelmed!”

“No,” Narissa whispered in horror. “My sisters…”

“It sounds like we came at the right time,” said a familiar voice behind them. The king, the queen and the guard turned around to see six teenagers standing on the balcony next to them, Musichetta in the lead.

“Chetta,” Narissa gasped happily. Musichetta hurried over to hug her mother, careful not to knock her over.

“I’m here, Mama.”

“Musichetta, sweetheart,” Terredor whispered. Musichetta let go of her mother to see her father staring at her with a haunted look on his face. “No…” he murmured to her surprise. “You should have never come here. I’m afraid there is nothing that can save Andros now.”

“How can you say that, Daddy?” Musichetta said angrily. “We can’t just give up hope!”

“I’m sorry,” Terredor sighed. “But we must be realistic, and it seems none of this…” he gestured to the sky, where the lightning crackled madly, “can be stopped.”

“He’s right, dear,” Narissa said softly. “This is beyond our control.”

Musichetta set her jaw. “You taught me never to give up.”

“Don’t be stubborn, Musichetta,” Terredor implored. He placed his hands on her shoulders, gazing at her desperately. “Go back to Musain now, I beg of you.”

Musichetta stared back unflinchingly. “Only when we can say we’ve tried everything in our power to save our home. We’ve faced down the Darkest Evil That Ever Existed, and lived to tell the tale, but it wasn’t exactly a trip for the scrapbook. If the Dimension’s most dangerous Dark Forces are being released, we need to make sure no one has to do something like that ever again.” She stepped away from her father and turned to her friends. “Come on, let’s transform!”

“Amis Charmix!” Courfeyrac and Cosette shouted. With a flash of white light, they were ready.

“Amis Enchantix!” chorused Musichetta, Enjolras, Jehan and Éponine. With their own respective swirls of colour, they too were ready, and Musichetta faced her father again.

“We’re going, whether you want us to or not.”

Her father nodded. “Then I will do all I can to help you. I’ll mobilize our army, and I’ll send for Tibok the Wise – he might know what to do.” As the Amis took off, he called after Musichetta, “Be safe, Chetta, please!”

“I will be,” Musichetta nodded, and the Amis flew in the direction of the cursed island.

 

* * *

 

Kishiko had always been proud of her position in the Advance Mermaid Guard. It was a great honour to guard one’s home from unspeakable evil, and do it well. But she felt anything but honourable as she shot at her cursed fellows.

“Emra me! M me!” she shouted as they were forced back. She forced herself to bring the shaft of her spear down on the last one’s head, knocking her out. This was the part no one told you about when you joined the army – that one day, you might be forced to shoot at innocent people following a twisted master’s orders.

A crash from above her made her glance up. It sounded like it had actually come from above the water. “Asme si ds se e?” she murmured, swimming for the surface. To her horror, the war was no longer waging only below the waves. The sandy banks of the island were teaming with her fellows, supporting themselves on their tails, and duelling creatures she didn’t recognise – creatures more horrifying than the Mer-monsters.

 

* * *

 

“Andros will soon be a place of the past,” Tholomyès hummed happily.

Babet frowned. “We’ve got what we want. Do you think we really need to keep the portal open?”

“He’s got a point,” Gueulemer agreed. “We can't possibly control all of the… _Things_ coming out of Omega. They’re unpredictable. What if they don’t stop at Andros? What if they come after _us_ next?”

Tholomyès shrugged. “Yes, I suppose that _could_ happen, but there’s no turning back now. What’s done is done.” He grinned as he looked at the three pale, shocked faces before him. “Relax. You’re talking to the Warlock who possesses all of Andros’ most powerful magical secrets. What, you didn’t think I spent all my time outside of the island sulking on top of it, did you? My powers are stronger than ever. They can destroy all of Magix – in fact, let them! We’ll still be protected.”

Patron-Minette continued to stare back at him, but suddenly Claquesous’ attention returned to the crystal ball. “Look! It’s Les Amis.”

 

* * *

 

Indeed, the Amis had reached the island, and were immediately set upon by the Mer-monsters. Cosette surveyed them nervously.

“You got anything?” she murmured to Courfeyrac as a particularly menacing Mer-monster leapt at them.

“Yes,” Courfeyrac said hurriedly. “Charmix convergence: Fire Wall!” Cosette quickly joined him, and electricity mingled with fire to create a barrier that flickered green and gold. The Mer-monster bounced off it, falling back with a splash, but the impact sent the two Faeries flying backwards about twenty feet, the spell fading.

“Electro-Pulse!” Courfeyrac shouted, blasting at a second Mer-monster. Cosette blasted a third with fire, but three more were approaching, using their delicate dorsal-fins and flukes as glider wings and wielding sharp spears. “They won’t stop coming!” Courfeyrac shouted in frustration.

“Tholomyès’ mark must be on nearly every Merperson in Andros!” Cosette gasped.

Meanwhile, the Enchantix Faeries had joined the fight on the beach, where the remainder of the Mermaid Guard were fighting a series of monstrous creatures that seemed to get uglier the longer you looked at them. Enjolras landed on the beach, and immediately leapt back into the air to avoid the claws of something that could only be described as a man-crab.

“Bad man-crab!” he shouted, blasting it with yellow light that knocked it onto its back. “I prefer my crustaceans cooked!” Unfortunately, he didn’t notice the Mer-monster hovering behind him, and took a blast right at the wing-join, falling out of the sky with an undignified screech.

“Hang on, Enj!” Jehan shouted. “Luxuriant Ivy!” An enormous vine burst from the ground and caught Enjolras around the middle, lowering him gently to the ground. The Faery of the Shining Sun groaned.

“That one’s going to leave a mark.”

Éponine and Musichetta had both flown upwards to get a better vantage point, but suddenly Éponine stopped and grabbed Musichetta’s arm. “Look,” she whispered. “There it is. The Omega Portal.”

“I hope we’re not too late,” Musichetta murmured. The vortex was quite terrifying from far away, but up close, it had a strangely hypnotic quality to it. There was something downright alien about the jet of spinning whiteness, and as they watched, it suddenly flared brightly, and the winds around it increased. The blowback was so strong, both Faeries were knocked right out of the air. Musichetta landed hard on her back, thankfully on a relatively soft patch of sand, and struggled to her feet –

Only to see something that looked like a werewolf standing over her with one huge clawed hand raised and ready.

 

* * *

 

“It seems like Les Amis have cast their last spells,” Babet smirked. Claquesous frowned next to him.

“Yeah. What a bummer.”

Babet looked up sharply. His cousin had apparently taken leave of her senses. “What are you talking about? We’ve been hoping for this for more than a year!”

“I know,” Claquesous sighed, “but I always thought _we’d_ be the ones to destroy them in the end. I don’t know, this just seems way less satisfying.”

Gueulemer frowned. “Yeah. She has a point, Babet. We’re getting completely ripped off!”

Babet blinked. “Yeah,” he agreed. “It doesn’t seem right, does it?”

“Let’s go!” Claquesous said, turning towards the door. Tholomyès got to his feet.

“Wait a minute. Where do you think you’re going?”

“What’s it to you?” Babet snapped, surprising Tholomyès enough that he sat back down again.

“Why do you want to stop us?” Gueulemer added suspiciously. Claquesous narrowed her eyes at the Warlock.

“I thought you hated Les Amis as much as we do!”

“Of course I do,” Tholomyès chuckled, “but those Faeries don’t stand a chance as it is. You three have no idea of the destructive power that will be unleashed once the portal gives way.” He grinned. “If you go after Les Amis, you’ll almost certainly share their fate.” The three shocked expressions in front of him made him grin. “Just keep watching, and you’ll still get a front row seat.”

 

* * *

 

Musichetta braced herself for a mauling that never came. Instead, all she heard was an angry yell and some furious growling. To her surprise, when she opened her eyes her father was standing between her and the now cowering werewolf, holding a bloody sword.

“Don’t let it get away!” he barked, and several Androssian soldiers ran past her, armed to the teeth as they chased the fleeing beast. King Terredor sheathed his sword and turned back to his daughter. “Sweetheart, are you OK?”

Musichetta heaved a breath. “Yeah, Daddy. I’m fine. Thank you for saving me.” She pulled him into a hug, and after a moment, he hugged her back.

“No, Musichetta,” he murmured, so quietly only she (and maybe Éponine if she wasn’t too distracted) could hear. “It is you who saved me. You reminded me that we must never give up hope, and I could have never continued this fight without you.”

“I love you, Daddy,” Musichetta whispered. They were broken apart by a shout from a guard.

“Your majesty! Enemies approaching!”

The two looked up to see three Mer-monsters swooping down on them, spears raised, and Musichetta gritted her teeth.

“Daddy,” she said quietly, “I need you to hold them off so I can make my way to the portal. I’m going to try and find a way to seal it.”

“No!” Terredor said firmly. “It is too dangerous. If you get too close to the vortex, you could get sucked into the Omega Dimension – which would be a death sentence for a Faery.”

“I have to try –”

“Then wait for Tibok the Wise. He is on his way, but for now we must fight _this_ battle.” He turned back to the Mer-monsters bearing down on them. “Can you free those poor Merfolk from Tholomyès’ spell?”

“I think my Faery Dust ought to.”

“Good. Then we will lure them in and keep them occupied long enough for you to cast your spell.” He turned to the three guards that had stayed with them. “Guards! Fan out!”

Musichetta backed away as the Mer-monsters approached, reaching for the little bottle around her neck. As her father raised his sword and shouted, “For Andros!” she uncorked it and took off, hovering above the Mer-monsters and sprinkling the pale lilac powder down onto them. They shrieked as it hit their skin, and a white healing light enveloped them, before with a flash they turned back into Mermaid Guards.

“Tholomyès’ spell is broken!” Musichetta shouted victoriously.

“Well done, Sweetheart!” her father called. “Thank you. You wait here for Tibok the Wise; I must join the rest of my soldiers.” Musichetta landed as her father and his men hurried off, and the freed Mermaids landed next to her.

“Oh, thank you, Princess!” one beamed gratefully. “We will be forever in your debt!” She and her two friends bowed to Musichetta, before turning around and heading for the ocean. Musichetta stared after them until a shout from the air caught her attention.

“Look who we found!” a familiar voice called, and Musichetta turned to see Cosette and Courfeyrac guiding an old Wizard down to the ground. He had dark skin, greying hair, and astonishingly blue eyes, and he was standing on a magical platform, letting out a sigh of relief as the three of them landed.

Musichetta touched down on the ground and curtsied before him. “Tibok! We’ve been waiting for you!”

“His ship was struck and destroyed by Tholomyès’ Mermaids,” Courfeyrac explained.

“So we gave him a lift!” Cosette added.

Musichetta breathed a sigh of relief. “Just in time!”

“Without your friends, I would not have made it,” Tibok said gratefully. He had an old, husky voice that made you feel that he had been to many places and learned many things. “It is good to see you again, Princess,” he added, bowing to Musichetta. He glanced up, and his face slackened in shock. Musichetta glanced up too, and realised that more Mer-monsters had returned for round two. She looked to her left, and to her right, and saw that more of the escaped monsters were bearing down upon them.

“They’re coming from all directions!” Cosette gasped.

“OCEAN OF LIGHT!” came Enjolras’ voice, and the three Faeries and the Wizard were surrounded by a glowing golden barrier. When it lifted, the monsters had vanished, and the cursed Mermaids were knocked back. Tibok and the Amis looked up to see Enjolras, Éponine and Jehan fluttering above them.

“We’ll take care of the monsters,” Éponine assured them. “You just get Tibok to the portal!”

The four of them darted off, Enjolras, Éponine and Jehan covering them from above. Cosette led the climb up the spiral mountain to the flat top, where the deep crack in the rock led down to the portal into the Omega Dimension. Tibok held up a hand to prevent them from going any further.

“We must stop here, we cannot get any closer without risking falling into the portal,” he explained. He gazed up at the vortex that stemmed from the crack, a guilty expression coming over his face.

“Tibok, what’s wrong?” Musichetta demanded.

The old Wizard shook his head slowly. “I cannot help but feel that this is my fault,” he admitted. “A long time ago, I helped to construct this portal. The other Wizards wanted to seal the portal permanently, closing off the Omega Dimension forever, but I lobbied for a provision: that the portal be able to be reopened, only by one of the Great Wizards of Andros. But it seems that Tholomyès has been able to exploit this weakness.”

Cosette shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Tibok. No one could have _possibly_ predicted this! It’s what we can do _now_ that matters.”

Tibok reached into the pocket of his robe, and pulled out an ancient piece of paper, wrapped into a scroll. “This ancient scroll contains a spell that can seal the portal, but I’ll need your help.”

“What do you need us to do, Tibok?” Musichetta asked.

“I need you to converge all of your magic onto the scroll.”

“That’s no problem!” Courfeyrac assured him. “We can do it.”

“This is our one and only hope,” Tibok murmured.

The three Faeries took a step back and grasped hands, preparing for convergence. When they closed their eyes and concentrated, they were each enveloped with an aura - Courfeyrac’s was bright green, Musichetta’s the same lilac-pink as her Morphix, and Cosette’s was fiery orange. Tibok raised the scroll and spoke the words:

“In the name of the great Wizards of the first Triumverate of Andros, this portal will be no more! By the power of Medak, the highest Wizard in the realm of -!” Tibok broke off suddenly, as the howling wind was tugging at the scroll, pulling it from his grasp. The Faeries were knocked off their feet, and Tibok stumbled back, his face taking on horrified realisation. “The scroll! No!” he gasped.

Musichetta leaped into the air and snatched at the scrolls, but they spun away from her on the wind. She reached for them again, but Courfeyrac shouted, “Chetta! Come back, you’re getting too close!”

She realised he was right, and had to twirl herself counter-clockwise to get away from the vortex’s grasp. She landed back on the ground with a defeated sigh. Cosette voiced what they were all thinking.

“The scroll is gone. Is there _anything_ else we can do?”

The ground shook harder and Tibok braced himself against it, sighing sadly. “I’m afraid not. We must evacuate Andros immediately!”

“What?” Musichetta gasped. “We can’t leave now!”

Courfeyrac squeezed her hand. “Come on, Tibok, there’s got to be _something_ else we can do!”

Tibok closed his eyes. “Well, the only thing I can think of is someone entering the vortex to try and seal the portal from within! But it would be very dangerous to do so, and there’s no guarantee that it would work! Our only real option is to leave Andros.”

Cosette shook her head. “No! We cannot let Tholomyès destroy another planet. I couldn’t do anything to save Domino, but I’m going to do everything in my power to save Andros!”

“Cosette,” Musichetta murmured, “it’s my responsibility to save my world.”

“Well, then,” Cosette said determinedly, “we’ll do it together!” They grasped hands and stepped forwards, Courfeyrac and Tibok flanking them. As they drew nearer the portal, the winds grew stronger, until it was so strong they couldn’t stand any more! Cosette, Musichetta and Tibok were all thrown off their feet, landing right back where they’d started.

Only Courfeyrac remained standing. He’d been blown back by the wind, but was still on his feet, the ground before him glowing red hot from where his metal heels had scraped it. He took a deep breath. “Alright, my turn,” he mumbled, and began marching towards the portal.

In the air above them, Éponine glanced round and spotted Courfeyrac marching towards the vortex. “What’s he doing?” she gasped. “He’s going to get himself killed!”

“Courf!” Jehan cried. “Wait! What are you _thinking_?!”

Courfeyrac ignored them. He continued resolutely towards the portal.

“Courfeyrac!” Cosette shouted from the ground, her voice high and panicky.

Tibok helped Musichetta up as she shook her head in horror. “We can’t let him risk his life for Andros, Tibok! We’ve got to stop him!”

Tibok held her back. “You are needed here, Musichetta, to help rebuild. What Courfeyrac is doing requires great courage. We must allow him to live out his destiny.”

Courfeyrac’s determined expression didn’t waver at all as he approached the vortex. As he reached it, he held out a hand as though to test the waters. Suddenly, with an electrical crackle, he was sucked into the centre of the vortex. In the air, Enjolras gave a sharp cry and began flying towards his friend, as though to attempt to pull him out. Courfeyrac closed his eyes, and allowed the swirling vortex to raise him off the ground.

“Courf!” Enjolras called, but Courfeyrac didn’t hear him. His body was enveloped with a golden light.

Suddenly his hair was growing longer, stopping at his shoulders, a pale purple streak appearing amongst the curly dark brown locks. War paint, like Enjolras’ but blue, streaked down his cheekbones. He raised his arms, his jumpsuit becoming a tube top and a pair of shorts the same lilac colour as his hair-streak. Green and blue armour appeared on top of them, and the familiar footless sandals wrapped around his feet. A green choker with a delicate violet bottle hanging off it appeared on his neck. Blue gloves and a tiny green hairclip completed the ensemble. Enormous purple three-pronged wings sprung from his back.

He had gained his Enchantix.

Calmly, Courfeyrac reached for the bottle on his choker and removed it. It glowed green, and the top gently popped off. Courfeyrac swirled it though the air, drawing a green spiral of Faery dust. “Faery Dust, close the portal!” he shouted. The green glittery powder swirled around him.

“Courf! You have to get out of there!” Éponine screamed.

Courfeyrac fluttered his wings, and in a second he was out of the portal, but instead of flying back to them like his friends had hoped, he raised his hands and began to push down on the vortex, forcing the wind back into the portal. He flew lower and lower into the chasm, gritting his teeth against the strong winds, until he reached the portal’s mouth, forcing the vortex back to the dimension from whence it came. As he reached the bottom of the chasm, the portal glowed white, and a rush of magic exploded out of it.

“Get back!” Musichetta screamed, pulling Tibok away from the portal. The other Faeries followed them, running and flying as fast as they could to escape the explosion of pure magic. When they reached the edge of the mountain, about 20 feet away from the chasm, Tibok glanced back and gasped in horror. The chasm had widened with the explosion, but was closing fast, sucking everything directly above it down with it. And that included Courfeyrac.

Courfeyrac’s wings worked desperately, but he couldn’t fight the power of the vortex. His eyes widened, and as he realised what was happening, he screamed in terror. His hand grasped for the edge of the portal, but there was no edge to grasp. The portal was closed.

Courfeyrac was gone.

“NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Cosette screamed.

Enjolras darted for the place where the portal had been mere seconds before. He scrabbled desperately at the ground, shouting Courfeyrac’s name over and over. “Courf! Courf! Courfeyrac! COURFEYRAC!” He began beating the ground with his fists, not caring that it was making his hands bleed. “COURFEYRAC! _COURFEYRAC! COOOOUUUURFEEEEYYYYRAAAAC!_ ”

Éponine grabbed Tibok’s arm. “Tibok! We have to do something, we have to save him!” she cried. The old Wizard sighed sadly.

“I’m so sorry. There’s nothing we can do,” he shook his head. “The portal is closed forever. He has made the ultimate sacrifice. Courfeyrac is _gone_.”

Musichetta’s eyes filled with tears. Éponine gave a sharp sob. Cosette and Jehan grabbed each other, sinking to the ground, too shocked and heartbroken to stand.

Enjolras continued punching the ground, screaming Courfeyrac’s name, even though he knew his friend could not hear him, and would never hear anything again.

 

* * *

 

In the study in Votirlu Castle that had formerly belonged to Monsieur Thénardier, Tholomyès continued to gaze into the crystal ball, flanked by Patron-Minette. The ball showed them an image of Enjolras’ tear-stained face as he continued to punch the ground. Tholomyès sighed happily.

“The tears of a Faery always bring a little bit of joy into my heart,” he grinned. “Don’t you agree?”

Gueulemer cackled. “By the time we’re done with the rest of them, they’ll have a lot more to cry about!”

“I can’t wait!” Claquesous agreed, chortling.

“One Faery down and five to go?” Babet smirked. “This is going to be too easy.”


	14. In Which Courfeyrac Is Dead And His Friends Want Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With Courfeyrac gone, Les Amis decide it's time to dissolve their group - but not before getting their revenge on Félix Tholmyès. Unfortunately, their surprise visit to him ends up revealing a truth about his past worse than Cosette could have possibly imagined...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest, this chapter is one of the main reasons I started writing this series at all. I hope you enjoy it!

In the light wooded area behind Musain, Bahorel carefully crafted a tombstone out of the rocky ground, and Cosette carefully burned an inscription onto it:

_Courfeyrac of Zenith_

_18 years old._

_The bravest Faery the dimension ever knew._

_You will be sorely missed._

The message finished, Cosette, Bahorel and what was left of the Amis finally allowed their tears to flow.

“I can’t believe I’m never going to see him smile again,” Enjolras whispered hollowly.

“He was so brave,” Musichetta whimpered. “He gave his life to save Andros.”

“Remember all the times he tried to be funny?” Jehan sniffled.

Éponine gave a howl of misery. “I wish I’d laughed more!” she sobbed. Abby curled up silently on her shoulder, her wings drooping. They seemed to have lost some of their sparkle.

Combeferre shook his head. “No!” he whispered. “No! He’s not dead! He’s not gone! I don’t believe you!”

Bahorel grabbed him by the shoulders. “Face it, Ferre!” he said. His voice cracked a little. “Courfeyrac was sucked into the Omega portal. He’s gone.”

“No!” Combeferre sob-yelled. “NO!” He sprinted away from them, unable to accept that his boyfriend was dead.

Bahorel sighed unhappily. “I’ll go after him.”

His friends barely heard him. Cosette was staring at the tombstone with an empty gaze. “We’ll miss you, Courf. We’re gonna miss you like crazy.”

 

* * *

 

Bahorel found Combeferre sitting on a bench in the Musain’s courtyard. “Ferre, I’m sorry,” he said softly. For all his hulking muscle, he seemed somewhat diminished; a far cry from the quick-tempered, brash young man he normally was. “There are some things that you just can’t change.”

Combeferre shook his head slowly. “Rel, you know how you can feel someone’s magic presence? Like, an aura?” he asked abruptly.

Bahorel nodded. “Uh, yeah, I guess?”

“Well, I’ve always been able to feel Courf’s, really strongly,” Combeferre continued. “And… if he were really gone, there would be this… _emptiness_ around me. Like all the light in the universe had been extinguished. But, I can still feel it. The lights are still on. He’s not gone.”

“Ferre…”

“No, Rel,” Combeferre said firmly. “He’s not gone. I don’t know how, but I know he survived being pulled into the Omega Portal. And I know he’s still alive now.” He looked up at the night sky, tears sparkling in his eyes, and two stars winked back. “You’re out there, Courf. And I will do whatever it takes to find you.”

 

* * *

 

As they arrived back in their apartment after the makeshift funeral ended, the Amis silently sat down on the sofa and chairs around the coffee table without even bothering to turn on the lights. The same empty expression showed on every face: the look of those who had cried themselves into silence. They sat silently for who knows how long, before Éponine finally spoke.

“It doesn’t feel right without him.”

“It doesn’t feel right at all,” Musichetta agreed.

“Maybe we should give it up,” Enjolras said quietly. “End Les Amis. Without Courfeyrac, it’s not Les Amis any more.”

Jehan nodded. “But before we call it quits, there’s one more thing we need to do.”

Cosette had barely even breathed since they left the tombstone, but now she sat up straight, and there was an angry fire burning in her indigo eyes. “We need to make Tholomyès _pay_.”

 

* * *

 

Félix Tholomyès gazed at the enormous magical map of the universe he’d set up in the study, eventually selecting a blueish planet with pink rings that spun in the opposite direction from the planet itself. “Planet Oppositus,” he murmured, and the map glowed brighter. A second later, Tholomyès found himself standing outside a dual-towered building in the middle of a town square. No two buildings were alike in design, and the towers of the one he was standing outside were different from each other – one incredibly tall and thin, and the other shorter and rounder. A fawn and a satyr were descending the steps with linked arms.

“We’re so different, and yet I know we’re made for each other,” the fawn was saying happily. The satyr opened its mouth to reply, but both fell silent as Tholomyès passed them, heading up the stairs into the building. They watched with fearful eyes as he reached the top of the stairs and strode through the front door.

Tholomyès found himself in an antechamber of sorts, with another door in front of him. This one, however, had two satyr guards standing in front of it – one very fat and the other rather shrimpy.

“Halt!” the larger guard shouted. “You there, step away from the palace of Oppositus!”

Tholomyès grinned. In spite of his seventeen years of exile, he remembered well how Oppositan humour worked. “But I don’t want to enter the palace,” he replied smoothly.

The satyrs apparently found this incredibly funny. “Then come on in!” the shrimpy guard chuckled, while the other one spluttered with laughter and wiped tears from his eyes.

Tholomyès nodded courteously, and stepped past the guffawing guards towards the golden doors behind them. The right door opened with a gentle push, while the left needed a little more persuading, but he was soon in the next room, and held up his hands, focusing hard. With a flash of black light, a gilded cabinet at the other end of the room swung open, and two scrolls – one of black paper, and the other white – floated out of it towards him. He caught them easily, and examined them. On the black scroll was a white duo symbol, and on the white scroll was a black duo symbol. With a nasty grin, he peeled them off as easily as one peels a banana, and placed them into his right pocket. With a second flash of black light, the scrolls both turned grey, and outside, he heard the crash of thunder as it began to rain. Tholomyès turned and left the room, thrusting the scrolls into his left pocket, and strode past the guards, who were no longer laughing, but appeared to be in some state of shock.

“We’re the same!” one of them whispered – Tholomyès didn’t know which one, because they were now both of average height and weight: identical to a T. He passed the fawn and the satyr on his way out, who had also appeared to experience a change, for they too were now the same height and weight as each other.

“What’s happened to us?” the satyr (he thought) gasped. Tholomyès grinned wider.

_Nothing more to do here._

 

* * *

 

“How are they doing?” Myriel murmured as he approached Javert, who was staring up at the Amis’ balcony with a frown.

“They’re acting strange,” Javert replied. “Enjolras and Éponine are playing non-stop sad violin and cello music, and Jehan has been brushing their hair for over an hour.”

Myriel gazed up at the dimly lit window, where the silhouettes of Enjolras, Éponine and Jehan were all visible. “I do hope they are alright,” he said quietly. “While Tholomyès must be stopped, and Courfeyrac avenged, I fear they will try going after him themselves. He is not an enemy to be trifled with.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Myriel’s fear was to be realised. The silhouettes they had seen were not the Amis themselves; rather, they were created by Juliette propping up a flashlight and Simone, Manon and Roselyne wearing dresses and wigs, and levitating the instruments and hairbrush into place while a CD played in the background. The Amis themselves were nowhere near their apartment; instead they were behind the school, manoeuvring the Wormhole Turtle into place.

“Three seconds,” Éponine murmured. “Two… One…” A hole appeared in the barrier, and the five friends hurried through it before it closed. They moved further into the forest behind the school, and Cosette took the lead.

“Ready, Mes Amis?”

“Ready.”

“Then let’s go and teach Tholomyès a lesson.”

The four Enchantix Faeries transformed, and Cosette did too, and they fluttered between the trees, keeping low to the ground until they were clear of Musain.

 

* * *

 

In the cylindrical cafeteria of Votirlu castle, Patron-Minette gazed down at the hypnotized Witches as they methodically ate dinner. “Félix’s branded Witches are so pitiful,” Claquesous sighed over the sound of the oddly routine chewing. Babet nodded in agreement.

“They’re so boring.”

“I enjoy them,” Gueulemer grinned. “They’re easy to mess with.” He got to his feet and shouted down at the minions. “Attention everyone! Tholomyès says to mix your jelly with your mashed potatoes!”

The Witches didn't look up, but obediently reached for the small desert pots of apple jelly and began pouring the contents onto their plates, mechanically stirring the unappetizing mixture. In spite of themselves, Babet and Claquesous burst out laughing, and Gueulemer sat down looking proud of himself, until a cold voice made him leap to his feet as though scalded.

“Stop messing with my minions.” Patron-Minette turned to see Tholomyès standing over their table, looking less than pleased. While Babet and Claquesous shrank back, Gueulemer drew himself up to his full height and stared the Warlock down.

“Enough about your precious minions!” he snapped. “When do you plan on showing us all of the new spells you’ve been stealing from other planets?”

Tholomyès looked furious for a second, but suddenly he smirked widely. “Now. Oppositus Power.” A narrow beam of black light shot from his hand and hit Gueulemer in the face. The Witch of Storms yelped as it hit him, then collapsed back into his chair and groaned quietly.

“Gueulemer?” Babet said uncertainly. “Are you OK?”

Gueulemer blinked, then looked up and beamed at Babet with unnaturally wide eyes. “I’m wonderful! You look really nice today, by the way, Babs.”

“OK, _that_ is _freaky”_ Claquesous murmured. Gueulemer ignored her, scooching over to Babet while gazing happily at Tholomyès.

“Babet, darling,” he said quietly, “do you think I have a chance with… _you know who?_ I think I might be in love.”

Babet stared at his cousin in horror. Tholomyès smirked and snapped his fingers, making a bowl of mashed-potatoes-and-apple-jelly float up to them. It landed in front of Gueulemer, who made an excited noise. “My favourite!” He grabbed a spoon and began shovelling the vile mixture into his mouth with gusto. His cousins’ jaws dropped.

“Looks like he’s hungry,” Tholomyès chuckled. “But _you’d_ never act that way, would you, Babet? Nor you, Claquesous?”

“Never,” Babet chuckled. Tholomyès left the room, and Babet got to his feet to follow him. “Doesn’t look good for you and your _love interest_ , Gueulemer. Later, dumbass.”

“Yeah, see ya,” Claquesous sniggered, following Babet after Tholomyès. Gueulemer paid them no attention, continuing to munch away happily.

It turned out, Tholomyès, Babet and Claquesous would end up regretting leaving the cafeteria, because about ten minutes after they had gone, five windows shattered and five very angry Faeries flew into the room.

“Alright, fuckers,” Cosette shouted. “Tell us where Tholomyès is!”

The Witches were silent, but slowly got to their feet and began blindly lumbering towards the Amis, who looked unsure of whether they should blast them or leave them be. They were interrupted by a cheerful voice – from the last person they would have expected it from.

“I can help you!” Gueulemer said happily. The Amis turned to him, jaws dropping, and he continued, with the air of a cheerful old man who has just won a tiny business in a game of dice and small binoculars, “You can find Félix Tholomyès in the Headmaster’s office – or the sorcery lab. He’s usually in either one of them at this time of day.”

“Stop intruders,” the Witches moaned as they continued slowly towards the Amis, and Gueulemer looked embarrassed.

“Forgive me,” he said apologetically. “I was just trying to help!”

“Well, _he’s_ really not himself today,” Éponine muttered, but the Witches were getting a little too close for comfort, and the Amis hurriedly darted through the nearest door, which seemed to be the teachers’ entrance to the cafeteria. Gueulemer followed them, but proceeded to skip off down a corridor to the right, humming cheerfully to himself. Musichetta barricaded the door to the cafeteria with Morphix, and Cosette tried to remember what the castle had looked like the last few times they’d been in Votirlu.

“OK,” she said after a few moments. “If I remember correctly, the sorcery lab should be down that corridor ahead of us, while Headmaster Thénardier’s office is down the left one.”

“Musichetta and I can search the sorcery lab,” Enjolras suggested. “You guys head for the office.”

Cosette had been right about the location of the office, and she, Jehan and Éponine approached the door in the air rather than on foot. They weren’t sure what they would find in the office, so it was with a gentle hand that Jehan carefully pushed open the door, and it was with extreme care not to touch the doorframe (in case it was alarmed) that the three Faeries fluttered in.

They couldn’t believe their luck.

Gazing at an enormous glowing map of the universe that stretched across Thénardier’s study, Félix Tholomyès seemed completely oblivious to everything going on around him, and didn’t react in the slightest to the sound of three pairs of feet, one in boots and two barefoot, touching down onto the floor behind him.

“I’ve taken the powers of all of these planets,” he murmured to himself. The planets automatically dimmed in brightness in the map’s depiction of them, showing only a few with their magic still intact. “Only a few to go, then I can take Magix for my own…”

“WRONG!” Cosette shouted, eyes blazing.

Tholomyès turned. Too late, the Amis realised his hands were already glowing blue-white with powerful magic. Éponine and Jehan were blasted off their feet. Cosette’s fists clenched.

“DRAGON FURY!” she screamed. A ball of golden light appeared in her hands, and she flung it at Tholomyès with reckless abandon. Tholomyès was thrown off his feet, through the map, which vanished, and into the wall, where he left a sizeable dent. He got back up, wincing.

“You _are_ powerful, Euphrasie,” he hissed. A cruel smirk appeared on his face. “Just like Fantine.”

“W- _What?_ ” Cosette stuttered.

“Your mother, the Queen of Domino.” The smirk remained on Tholomyès’ face as he dusted himself off.

“My mother? Why are you bringing her up?!” Cosette demanded.

Tholomyès looked her in the eye, still smirking. “Time for us to chat.”

 

* * *

 

Enjolras and Musichetta followed the corridor along to the sorcery lab, but were forced to duck behind a tapestry depicting Morgana fighting Merlin into a hidden corridor.

“I think Tholomyès has put his mark on every Witch in this place,” Enjolras murmured. He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone other than Musichetta replied.

“Not every Witch.”

The two Faeries turned slowly, and to their amazement, realised they were standing a few feet away from the cell holding Headmaster Thénardier himself.

“Headmaster Thénardier!” Musichetta gasped. “Are you OK?”

Thénardier scowled. “What sort of a question is that? I need out of this cell. It’s sapping me of my powers. I’ve tried every spell in the book, and nothing has worked.” He glared at the glowing bars that shut him into the tiny room. “I curse Tholomyès’ existence, and rue the day I met the prick.”

“Luckily, I’m fully charged up and ready to go,” Enjolras smiled. “Let me try. Magic Rainbow!” A blast of golden light that glittered with other colours hit the bars, but to Enjolras’ surprise, did nothing to destroy or even move them. To his shock, a second later the bars threw his spell back at him, sending him slamming into the opposite wall. “Ow,” he groaned. “Mirror spell. Should have seen that one coming.”

Musichetta winced sympathetically. “I’ll try bending the bars,” she suggested. “Glowing Morphix!” A ball of pink Morphix shot towards the prison and actually managed to move between the two central bars. With Musichetta’s guidance, it began to expand, pushing on the bars and actually managing to enlarge the gap between them – for a few seconds. Then, like Enjolras’ spell, it rebounded painfully on its caster, who made a face at her companion. “I think this is going to take longer than we thought.”

 

* * *

 

“You see, your mother, Fantine, was the leader of the Company of Light,” Tholomyès explained, pacing around Cosette. “A group of magical warriors who fought to save the magic dimension.”

Behind them, Éponine got to her feet and raised her hands. “Magic Bass Boom!” she cried. A deep vibration echoed around the room, making the walls and floors vibrate intensely, but Tholomyès didn’t seem the slightest bit bothered. He waved a hand and the room stilled again. Éponine gasped in shock.

“Why, Miss Thénardier,” he said lazily, “I recently returned from a realm where magic creates peace and silence. Let me show you a little spell I took from them…” A glowing ball of lilac light appeared between his hands. It slowly got bigger, until he deemed it large enough and flung it at Éponine. The ball of magic encompassed her like a cage - a twisted hamster ball - and although it was obvious that she was screaming in furious terror, none of those in the study could hear her.

Jehan leaped up. “Luxuriant Ivy!” they shouted, and green vines shot from their hands, trying to wrap around Tholomyès. Again, he appeared untroubled, slashing at the air with one hand and destroying the vines.

“And for Mx Prouvaire, a spell from the cave-dwellers of the Downlands. Their magical speciality is _Darkness_.” Jehan attempted to leap away from the beam of dull light that Tholomyès shot at them, but to no avail. They were wrapped in the strange not-light, and Cosette could see their wings visibly start to wilt. The slender redhead collapsed to their knees, their skin having taken on an ashy tone. Tholomyès chuckled.

“You won’t survive too long without any light.” He turned to Cosette for confirmation. “Right?” Tholomyès ducked away from the balls of fire Cosette furiously shot at him. He was starting to look a little irked. “No reason to fight. I only wish to tell you more about your mother’s sad misfortune.”

Cosette gritted her teeth, the temptation of knowing more about her past too strong to ignore. “I’m listening.”

Tholomyès’ smirk was back. “How much do you know?”

Cosette stared at him with narrowed eyes, lowering her fists but not unclenching them. “I know that the Ancestral Witches destroyed her body when she sent me to another dimension to protect me. I know that she died fighting the dark side.”

“Mmm, that’s not quite how it happened,” Tholomyès tutted. “Your mother did indeed die fighting against Lord Méchant’s rise to power, but the Witches were far too busy serving the Phoenix to bother with the likes of her. But we must start at the beginning. I first met Fantine when I was a young Warlock serving the Three Ancestral Witches,” Tholomyès began the story. “She didn’t know that at first, obviously – no one knew my identity back then. I pretended I was on her side, that I was a friend, and she told me things… personal secrets, her own pathetic fears… we grew extremely close, you know. But times change, and Fantine realised I was not who I said I was… such a shame. I’d rather liked her.” Tholomyès’ grin was back in place. “I fought against her during her final battle. Your mother was powerful, extremely so… but I took advantage of her one true weakness… her determination to always believe the best of people. I pretended that she had struck me down, that I was dying… begged her for forgiveness, for her not to finish the job. She realised she couldn’t kill the man she’d once loved, and whom she’d thought loved her back, and in her moment of indecision, I cursed her body to pieces and sent her to oblivion, never to be heard from again.” He closed his eyes, almost blissful. “And that was the end of the Queen of Domino.” He turned to Cosette, who was shaking all over, her eyes welling up with furious tears, her fists and teeth clenched.

“What’s the matter, Euphrasie, did I say something to upset you?” Tholomyès bared his teeth in a grimly satisfied grin. “That’s right, Euphrasie. _I_ was your mother’s great love. _I_ was her only weakness.” He paused, savouring the moment.

“ _I am your **father**_. And _I_ killed your mother.”

Cosette screamed. A burning red flame twisted around her, shooting towards Tholomyès like the mushroom cloud from an atomic bomb. It would have killed him, and it should have, had he not raised both hands with a cry of “Oppositus Power!”

The fire cooled and froze as quickly as it had appeared. Unfortunately for Cosette, it encased her like a prehistoric bug in a block of amber, freezing her solid in a block of ice. The bolt that had been aimed for Tholomyès broke off, leaving a miniature iceberg with the blonde Faery perfectly preserved at the centre. Tholomyès smirked.

“Au revoir to Domino’s last survivor, destroyed by her own magic.” He tilted his head to one side, considering a thought, then raised his hand and made a fist. Inside the iceberg, a ball of purple light appeared on Cosette’s chest, moving forwards and out of the ice. It landed in Tholomyès’ hand, and the light vanished, revealing his prize: the beautiful heart-shaped brooch with a yellow topaz set in it. Cosette’s Charmix. “And now I have this fine souvenir,” he grinned. “From Daughter to Father, what a lovely gift.”

 

* * *

 

“I think this calls for some Faery Dust,” Enjolras decided. He pulled the delicate star-shaped bottle off his choker and uncorked it. Thénardier raised his eyebrows, apparently impressed.

“You have a new power,” he commented. “I applaud you.”

“Thanks,” Enjolras grinned. He didn’t move to use the Dust; apparently searching for the perfect place to sprinkle it. As he did so, Thénardier chuckled nostalgically and leaned against the wall of his cell.

“I remember when Queen Fantine first gained her Enchantix powers; all of my best spells immediately became useless against her.”

“Cosette’s mother was an Enchantix?” Musichetta asked keenly. Thénardier chuckled again.

“By the end of the War, she was quite past an Enchantix; she became the Supreme Nymph in the end.” He tilted his head, considering. “Your friend Corvette is the only Faery I’ve seen take so well to her powers since.”

“Got it!” Enjolras said excitedly, pre-interrupting Musichetta’s attempt to inform Thénardier that ‘Corvette’s name was really ‘Cosette’. “Stand back.” He carefully drew a star of silver Faery Dust – to the surprise of both Musichetta and Thénardier – on the wall _opposite_ the cell. A second after the Dust faded, a glowing image of a lock appeared on the wall, and Enjolras pressed it. The image faded – and so did the bars!

“Brilliant,” Thénardier murmured as he exited the cell, blinking in the corridor’s gloomy light – which was, admittedly, an improvement from the light situation in the cell. “You broke through the Mirror spell by breaking the curse on the wall opposite the bars. It’s a classic Oppositan magic trick.”

“It seems Tholomyès is helping himself to the spells of more than just Andros,” Musichetta frowned. “What say you we pay him a little visit, sir?”

Thénardier opened his mouth to agree, but a cold voice interrupted him.

“Out of your cell without a hall pass, Thénardier?” Babet smirked. “Shame on you!” Behind him, Claquesous was angrily pushing away Gueulemer, who was repeatedly attempting to hug her.

“This calls for some serious discipline,” she managed between fending off her cousin.

“You’re right,” Thénardier said coolly. “And to start with, I’m ordering the three of _you_ out of _my_ school!”

“This is _our_ school now!” Babet snarled, raising his hands. “Ice Wave!” A wave of sharpened icicles shot from his hands towards the Headmaster, but Musichetta calmly stepped in front of him. “I got this,” she smiled. “Enchanted Plasma!” A bolt of pink light shot from her hands, expanding into a shield that reflected the icicles back at Babet, who threw himself onto the ground to dodge them with an undignified squeak. Enjolras joined Musichetta with a grin.

“Solar Charm!” he shouted. A streak of golden light shot towards Claquesous and Gueulemer, who were too slow to avoid it, and shrieked as it hit them. “I think that should take care of our unwanted guests.”

“Think again!” Gueulemer sneered, getting to his feet. Enjolras had the decency to look embarrassed; apparently he’d had a little Faery Dust left over when he’d cast that spell – enough to break the one that had Gueulemer acting nice. “Twister of rage!”

The cursed wind that issued from his hands sent Enjolras, Musichetta and Thénardier flying backwards down the narrow corridor. Babet and Claquesous straightened up next to him, looking relieved. “I’m so glad you’re back!” Babet said emphatically.

“Me too,” Gueulemer groaned. “Was I really smiling constantly and being disgustingly nice to everyone? And why does my mouth taste like I licked a sticky cushion?”

“Tholomyès made you eat the mashed potatoes mixed with jelly,” Claquesous grinned. “It was totally disgusting.”

Gueulemer shuddered. “I’m so ashamed. I think I need to blast a Faery to pieces just to feel manly again.”

Babet grinned and pointed to where Enjolras and Musichetta were groaning on the floor. “Well, lucky for you, there are two Faeries right here!”

A smirk spread across Gueulemer’s face. “Let’s get ‘em.”

“Not so fast!” Thénardier snarled, getting to his feet. “I’m still the Headmaster here, and the only thing you’re going to _get_ is detention! _Demeritus!”_ To the Faeries’ surprise, a blast of red light shot from his hands and hit Patron-Minette dead-on. There was a bright flash, and the three Witches vanished with a screech.

“Awesome!” Enjolras gasped, getting to his feet. “Where did they go?”

Thénardier smirked. “I’ve been wanting to do that to those three for a long time. I sent them to the Detention Dimension.”

“Damn,” Enjolras muttered, helping Musichetta to her feet. “I sure wouldn’t want to misbehave in this school.”

 

* * *

 

The Detention Dimension was misty, and devoid of anything except three one-student desks and an enormous blackboard that stretched around them. At the top of the centre of the blackboard (at least, Patron-Minette assumed it was the centre, because that’s where the desks were facing) a large gargoyle head glared down at them sternly.

“Listen up!” it growled. “You will stay here until you have written down six thousand ingredients that can be used in potions.”

“This is ridiculous!” Gueulemer snarled.

“I’m not doing it!” Babet scowled. Claquesous nodded.

“Me neither.”

 

* * *

 

Thénardier led the two Faeries through the corridors of Votirlu, using a spell to make sure none of the hypnotized Witches were coming towards them, but to his surprise, the corridor suddenly filled with lilac light despite there being none of Tholomyès’ minions in the surrounding area.

“An unauthorised portal –” he started worriedly, but gasped in relief when Myriel and Lamarque stepped out of it. “Oh, thank the Dragon.”

Myriel raised his eyebrows knowingly at Enjolras and Musichetta, who suddenly looked very sheepish. “When we realised that you’d sneaked out, we knew we had to find you before any harm could come to you.”

“Sorry, sir,” Enjolras mumbled. “We wanted to get our revenge on Tholomyès.”

“I understand how you feel,” Thénardier agreed. “Tholomyès took over my office, and is using it to plot out how he’s going to take over the Magic Dimension.”

“Cosette, Jehan and Éponine should have found him by now,” Musichetta added, and Lamarque smiled.

“It seems the Company of Light is reforming,” he commented. Myriel rolled up his sleeves, determination glowing in his eyes.

“Let’s go and find Félix Tholomyès.”

 

* * *

 

To Jehan’s surprise, the air around them suddenly felt lighter and fresher, and they blinked rapidly, readjusting to the light as they realised the curse on them had been lifted. Next to them, Éponine fell out of the air with a scream as her own prison vanished. She stopped screaming upon realising she could hear herself again, and got to her feet.

“What happened?”

“No time to think about that,” Jehan decided. “We need to get Cosette out of that ice!”

Tholomyès smirked at them from where he was lounging at the desk. “Not going to happen,” he sneered.

“Shut it, you!” Éponine barked, and Tholomyès obediently fell silent, although he continued to smirk at them. “Time to Dust!”

She and Jehan both reached for their Faery Dust bottles, but Tholomyès was quicker; he blasted them with black wind, sending both of them smacking into the wall and pinning them there, and Jehan realised with mounting horror why he’d released them. They’d seen it a hundred times in nature; he was playing with them like an Orca with a seal.

Toying with his prey before killing it.

Suddenly, the wind let up, and Jehan and Éponine both groaned as they slid down the wall, Jehan bracing themselves for the second round –

But the second round never came.

Instead, they heard a very angry shout of, “LEAVE MY STUDENTS ALONE!”

“Myriel?” Éponine mumbled, picking herself up.

Indeed, Myriel was facing Tholomyès, who was groaning and clutching his stomach, having clearly been hit with a spell. He struggled upright, chuckling in shock. “You three can’t possibly think you still have what it takes!” With a flick of his wrist, three bolts of black light shot towards the headmasters, who were thrown against the wall. Tholomyès’ smirk made its way back onto his face – too soon.

His spell had either not been as powerful as he’d thought, or the three teachers were much stronger than he’d anticipated, but they easily picked themselves up, and with a flash of red light, Thénardier vanished and reappeared behind Tholomyès. As the Warlock turned in shock, Lamarque appeared on his other side in a blaze of fire. All three headmasters raised their hands, and with blasts of red, lilac, and gold, Tholomyès was trapped in a ball of light.

“Mes Amis!” Myriel shouted. “Free Cosette! Now!”

Jehan and Éponine hurried to join Musichetta and Enjolras, and all four of them uncorked their bottles of Faery Dust. Éponine held up her hand to stop them from pouring.

“Remember,” she said urgently, “we’re undoing an Oppositan curse. When we hit the ice with Faery Dust, it will return to its original state – fire. Be ready to get out of the way.”

The other three nodded, and raised their bottles. Tholomyès was struggling inside his prison, which was beginning to crack in some places, and the Amis hurried to pour the Faery Dust over the iceberg that encased their friend. Lilac, silver, green and magenta Dust mixed in the air, and at the same moment the prison glowed brighter with the effort of keeping Tholomyès in, and for a second, the entire room was lit up with all the colours of the rainbow.

 

* * *

 

“Come on, Babet,” Gueulemer growled, trying to remember whether or not ‘newt’ had a ‘k’ at the start. “Claquesous and I agreed. Let’s just write all this stuff down so we can get out of here.”

“Forget it,” Babet rolled his eyes. The gargoyle glared down at him.

“If you don’t comply, your behaviour will be reported to the Headmaster!”

“Oh no,” Babet said mockingly. “That’s so scary.” Claquesous finished writing down ‘scorpion eggs’, and tilted her head, clearly thinking hard.

“I have an idea,” she grinned after a moment. “Stop worrying about your spelling, ‘Mer; sit back and watch the Mistress at work.” Gueulemer stood back with a curious frown, and Claquesous closed her eyes and placed her hands against the board. “Duplication, Illusion and Deception,” she chanted, “trick us free from this Dimension of Detention!” Dark magic pulsed from her fingertips, dancing across the blackboard in purple sparks. A second later, scrawls of white chalk began to spread out across the board from Claquesous’ own cluster of handwritten ingredients, grouped together in words and phrases in her handwriting, but when Gueulemer and Babet looked closer, unintelligible at close range.

“Genius,” Gueulemer murmured. He and Babet hurried around the room, pretending to scribble down the words as they continued to appear all around the board, and high-fiving when they reached the other side of the room. Claquesous grinned up at the gargoyle.

“We’ve finished our work,” she said sweetly. Babet strolled back over to her.

“What are we waiting for?” he smirked. “Let’s get out of here!”

“Bye-bye, Blackboard Face!” Gueulemer taunted the gargoyle. Before it could retort, he and his cousins vanished in a burst of violet light.

 

* * *

 

“We can’t hold the shield much longer!” Myriel gasped. The Amis hurriedly wafted the Faery Dust towards the ice, which began to crackle as it made contact.

“We’re nearly done!” Enjolras called over to the headmasters, but a second later, the light imprisoning Tholomyès shattered, and he straightened up with a growl.

“The shield is gone!” Lamarque yelled.

“The spell’s gone too!” Jehan shouted back. Indeed, the ice had vanished, and a cloud of smoke was rising rapidly into the air above Cosette’s unconscious body. Enjolras dived down and pulled her out from under it, and the Amis and teachers hurried away from both the smoke and the angry Warlock. A good thing they did, because a second later, Cosette’s spell burst into flames and shot towards Tholomyès. It was nowhere near as strong as it had been when she’d originally cast it, but it was still powerful enough to knock Tholomyès to the floor and pin him there.

“Come on,” Éponine said nervously, “let’s get out of here before he gets up!”

“No,” Cosette groaned in Enjolras’ arms. “We… have to… stay… Finish him off… for Courfeyrac… and Fantine…”

“Not today, Cosette,” Myriel said firmly. “Enjolras, can you move us?”

Tholomyès had apparently succeeded in fighting off Cosette’s spell, and was struggling to his feet, his hair and overcoat both smoking slightly. “YOU!” he snarled, raising his hands, which started to glow with black light. “YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!”

Enjolras passed Cosette to Musichetta and clapped his hands. “Not today, buddy!” With a flash of golden light, both the Amis and the three headmasters had vanished. Tholomyès released his curse a second too late, just as the door to the office opened and Patron-Minette strolled in.

“Sorry we took so long, Félix,” Gueulemer said apologetically.

“Stupid detention,” Babet added, but suddenly his eyes widened as he noticed the curse barrelling towards them. All three Witches were thrown back against the wall, landing in a smouldering heap. With a whine, Claquesous crawled out from the bottom of the pile.

“I’m sorry!” she wailed. “Next time we’ll write down the dumb ingredients! I promise!”

 

* * *

 

The next morning dawned bright and cheerful, but in Headmaster Myriel’s office, the mood was sombre. Myriel listened intently as Cosette recounted all Tholomyès had told her, and it was clear the girl was struggling not to break down as she explained how her mother had died. But then she paused, and Myriel realised that she must have discovered something that had hit her even worse than knowing the identity of her mother’s murderer. He leaned forward.

“I wondered all these years, you know,” Cosette whispered after a moment. “Why I was so strong, even when I’d just begun to use my powers. I wondered if it was because they were making up for lost time, or if I was just good at magic. But now I know the truth.” She stared down at her lap, refusing to meet his eyes. “It’s because I’m born of two parts of the Dragon Flame. I’ve been searching for my father since I found my mother, and I’ve found him at last.” She was shaking all over, and Myriel turned the words over in his mind, his eyes widening as he realised what she meant.

“You mean, Félix Tholomyès is –”

“My father,” Cosette murmured. “He is my flesh and blood.”

Myriel sighed and steepled his fingers under his chin. “Cosette,” he began sadly, “I wish I could say I have evidence that this is not the case. But unfortunately, it fits all of the pieces of the puzzle into place. I cannot deny that Félix Tholomyès likely fathered Queen Fantine’s only heir.” He got to his feet. “I believe there is only one thing I can do for you now.” Cosette looked up, and Myriel paced over to the window. “Somewhere in our Dimension, there exists an island called Pyros. No one is sure of its exact location, and few could describe even the topography.” He smiled a little. “It is known as the Island of Dragons.”

The fear in Cosette’s voice made him turn around. “Am I being exiled? Are you sending me away there?” she whispered, shaking with terror. “Because Tholomyès being my father makes me… a dragon?”

Myriel remembered how often in Earth cultures, dragons were seen as feared and uncontrollable enemies of humans, rather than the animals they were respected as in the Magic Dimension, and hurried to assuage her fears. “Cosette, you are neither an outcast, nor an enemy. And I do not believe you are a dragon – at least, not yet.”

Cosette stared at him in confusion, and he elaborated, “I believe that if you go to this island and spend some time there, you will become stronger both emotionally and physically – perhaps even enough to take on Tholomyès in a fair fight.” He smiled at Cosette’s suddenly awed expression, and hurried to add, “But I should warn you, it will be danger unlike anything you have faced before. While magical enemies can almost always eventually be predicted – even Tholomyès himself – nature is never predictable. If you decide to go to Pyros, there is a good chance you may not return alive – or at all.”

 

* * *

 

When Cosette returned to the apartment, the Amis all sat up and turned to her expectantly, hoping to hear some good news, but stilled at the sight of her grim face.

“What did Myriel say to you, Cosette?” Jehan asked nervously. Cosette took a deep breath.

“I’ve decided to go on a mission,” she said. “I’m going to an island called Pyros to train. And before you ask,” she held up a hand to silence Enjolras, who looked ready to announce that he would go with her, “it’s a solo mission. I…” she sighed, staring at the ground, before looking up and carefully meeting her friends’ eyes one by one. “There’s a good chance that I may not survive this mission.”

“You’re going to come back,” Enjolras said fiercely, even though his eyes betrayed his fear. “You’re going to come back, and you’ll be stronger than ever.”

“What do you think you’re going to learn there?” Jehan asked with wide eyes. Cosette took a deep breath, and set her jaw. Her familiar determination was glowing in her eyes.

“I’m going to learn how to kill Félix Tholomyès.”

 

* * *

 

“Félix, you’ve got to chill!” Babet groaned, feeling dizzy from watching Tholomyès pace up and down the office. Tholomyès didn’t even look at him when he replied.

“I can **not** let the heir of Domino survive!” he growled.

“Then how about we go and get her for you?” Babet suggested. Tholomyès paused in his erratic pacing and looked up, his franticness gone as suddenly as it had appeared.

“Yes!” he grinned. “Yes, go and find her, and bring her here to me. Then we can destroy her together!”

Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer got to their feet, exchanging grins.

It had been a while since they’d done some kidnapping.

 

* * *

 

Cosette exchanged dozens of hugs with her friends, and then called Jean Valjean and said goodbye to him too. She kissed Wolter and Juliette, and Enjolras hugged her one final time, and then she made her way back to Myriel’s office, and transformed. Her heart-shaped pin was still missing, lost to Tholomyès, and she felt surprisingly heavy without it.

“Are you sure you want to do this, Cosette?” Myriel asked again. Cosette nodded.

“I’m sure.”

Myriel raised his hands. “Then go now.” A swirling lilac portal appeared, and Cosette took a deep breath, and stepped forward into it, and then she was falling, falling, falling through nothing…

 

* * *

 

“Cosette’s left,” Juliette whispered. “Her emotional presence is really, really faint. She’s nowhere near the school any more – maybe not even in the same Dimension!”

Éponine sighed, flinging herself onto the sofa. “I miss her already. It’s bad enough that Courf is - well. Gone. But now Cosette’s gone too, and we don’t know if she’ll come back or not.”

Musichetta nodded silently. Jehan was about to add something, when their attention was caught by something outside the window – something big and red. _Is that – yes!_ “It’s a ship from Corinthe!”

The four Faeries dashed down the stairs and out into the courtyard in time to see none other than Grantaire and Marius descending from the ship’s entrance. Enjolras immediately flung himself at Grantaire and pulled him into a tight hug, but suddenly pulled back and sobbed, “You never called me! Not even one text! I was scared you were dead!” To everyone’s surprise, tears were pouring down his face.

Grantaire pulled him into a tighter hug. “I’m so sorry, Apollo,” he said apologetically. “I was locked in an Eraklyon prison with no phone service. I was only let out yesterday.”

“I didn’t realise he’d been arrested ‘til then,” Marius added, paler than usual. “After you broke Céleste’s spell, I had to re-establish power, explain to my grandfather what had happened, cancel the wedding preparations, and have Céleste arrested. Grantaire was out the second I realised they were holding him prisoner.” He looked thoroughly ashamed of himself. “I can’t apologise enough for how I treated you guys. I am so, so sorry, and I will try to make it up to you all.” He glanced around, and realised that there were only four Faeries instead of the usual six. “But where’s Courfeyrac? I need to apologise to him too. And Cosette. She deserves so much better than me. I need to make it up to her, no matter what it takes.”

Jehan took Marius’ hand sadly. “Courfeyrac is _dead_ , Marius,” they whispered. Marius’ face went slack with shock, because - no. It couldn’t be. Courfeyrac couldn’t be dead, Jehan must be joking, they must - Jehan would never joke about something like this. Marius stumbled back and sat on one of the many benches in the courtyard. Courfeyrac was _dead_. He looked up at Jehan desperately. “And Cosette?”

“Cosette has gone away for a while.”

“When will she be back?”

“That’s just it, Marius,” Jehan said sadly. “She’s gone to train on Pyros, the Island of Dragons. And it’s not a question of when she will return; it’s whether she will return at all.”


	15. In which Combeferre isn’t ready to accept that Courfeyrac is dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Still not ready to accept that Courfeyrac likely didn't survive being pulled into the Omega Dimension, Combeferre has started searching for a way to find him. Meanwhile, Cosette starts her Pyros mission with a record-breaking three different near-death experiences in one day...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter and next chapter I've started introducing some magic concepts that will end up being a really big part of this story. I hope you enjoy it!!

Myriel turned off his holophone with a sigh. In seventeen years, he had never felt so empty after a phone call.

But informing a single mother that her only son has most likely perished in a black hole leading to an ice dimension full of the worst monsters in the Universe was never going to be easy. Aerora would be arriving to the school in two days’ time to collect Courfeyrac’s belongings and view his makeshift gravestone. It was not going to be a cheerful occasion.

The poor woman had looked so… lost. Myriel had not had to deliver a phone call like that since the days of the War, when people had been going missing left, right and centre. However, the heaviness of a phone call back then – or a death call, as it was known – had seemed lighter than this.

Because during the War, everyone learned to expect them. Courfeyrac, however, had been taken cruelly and unexpectedly, by the actions of a wicked man the Universe had failed to warn its people about.

At least back then, people had been prepared.

 

* * *

 

Jehan lay awake in their bed, staring unseeingly at the ceiling. Fate had been in a cruel mood lately, first stealing Courfeyrac away from his friends, family and future, and now taking Cosette far away to a deadly island almost the second the future she’d been denied had become possible again.

While Jehan had grown up passive to Fate, believing it knew what was best, at that moment they would have liked nothing more than to deliver a swift kick to Fate’s –

“Jehan? You awake?”

At the sound of another voice in the room so late at night, Jehan automatically looked over at Cosette’s bed, before hurriedly looking away from the neatly tucked sheets. A short silhouette with long curly hair stood in the doorway – Enjolras.

“Hey Enj,” Jehan sighed, sitting up and groping for the nightlight. “You couldn’t sleep either?”

Enjolras shook his head as he sat down in Jehan’s desk chair. “I can’t stop thinking about Cosette. I’m terrified of what might happen to her on that island. What if she’s hurt? Or… or… worse.”

Jehan stared at the bump their knees made under the blanket, before looking up at Enjolras, their expression unreadable. “We just have to trust that she knew what she was doing when she decided to go.” Their expression wavered into worry. “But, shit. I really hope the dragons don’t go for her.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Jehan’s prayer had not been answered.

Being chased through the jungle on a small volcanic island by a giant murderous bird-lizard was nothing like _Jurassic Park_ had made it out to be.

It was worse.

Cosette had arrived on the island at about midday-ish – a good time normally as most adult dragons were nocturnal, but unfortunately she’d landed right in the middle of a Titanwing’s home territory, and woken him from his siesta. As she fled, she tried to remember everything she’d ever learned about dragons over the sound of the beast crashing through the jungle behind her.

  1. Wild male dragons are highly territorial.



Well, that one had proved itself right off the bat. It was said that particularly large males would even leave their land to follow, fight and kill a rival, confident that if anything else encroached on their home in the time they were gone, they could chase it off too.

  1. Wild dragons are much bigger than domesticated dragons.



To the point where even the strongest, most talented Wizard would probably fail to control them. Cosette had never seen a dragon larger than an Eraklyon Mix, which had an average mass of about two and a half tons. The dragons here easily reached eight tons – or more.

The island of Pyros was about twenty-two square kilometres, with tropical forest covering most of it, except for a volcano at the east side, and a large muddy landmass beyond it – i.e. prime nutrient-filled real-estate for large predatory reptiles. Cosette had noticed the volcano when she’d foolishly tried to outrun the dragon in the air, before remembering that dragons were far more ungainly when they had less space to move, and had hurriedly dived back into the cover of the forest. Unfortunately, she could see a clearing up ahead – meaning her protective canopy was about to be taken away.

As she burst into the clearing, she threw herself onto the ground to avoid a jet of fire that singed the back of her hair. It seemed the dragon was smart enough to know not to shoot at her in a place where it could easily start a forest fire, but the clearing was fair game. Cosette looked up, squinting in the midday sun, and realised the ground ahead of her fell away into water. _A lagoon!_

She rolled out of the way of a second blast of fire, before leaping up and hovering just above the ground. _Two can play at this game._ “MAGMA BOMB!”

Her spell hit the dragon in the face, long enough for her to slide into the lagoon. Cosette swam a few metres down and hoped her disappearance would make the dragon give up.

No such luck. As the dragon plunged its head into the water to look for her, Cosette internally groaned as she remembered something else about dragons.

  1. They are shit-the-bed persistent.



But – not very intelligent. And if fire came towards it from somewhere fire should not be coming from…

“Bliple Pruhpn Prike!”

OK, so the words came out a bit weird underwater, but the Triple Dragon Strike spell worked perfectly, the explosive flames rushing towards the surface and sending the dragon running – or rather, flying. Cosette waited until she couldn’t hold her breath any longer, then swam to the surface and climbed back onto the bank. Great, just a few more… days? Weeks? … _Months_ of this?

The dragons, it seemed, were eager to get started. No sooner had she wrung out her hair than a big green one swooped down at her, and she was fleeing again. Unfortunately, it seemed the lagoon had been at the bottom of a gorge, and the only way away from the dragon was into the narrow ravine. Cosette hurried forward between the two towering black cliffs, only chancing a single glance back over her shoulder – and catching the dragon opening its mouth, which was rapidly filling with flammable gas.

_Crap._

Cosette leapt over a stray boulder, intending to duck down and avoid the flames, but nature had other plans, it seemed, and suddenly she was tumbling downwards into a pit – flailing wildly in the darkness –

…Falling into nothing…

 

* * *

 

In the living room of their apartment in Corinthe, Marius blinked in shock at the extraordinary announcement Combeferre had just made.

“Wait… what?”

Next to him, Feuilly frowned at the bespectacled boy. “I’m sorry, Ferre, would you mind repeating that?”

Combeferre blinked slowly, holding up the bundle of fabric and wires he was holding. “I said, I think I’ve figured out a way to find Courfeyrac. I’ve updated this satellite locator by adding an emotional sensor –”

“Combeferre,” Grantaire interrupted, quietly but firmly, “Headmaster Lamarque stopped by. He wanted to know how you were doing.”

“We told him you were fine,” Marius added, “but I don’t think he bought it. He’s worried about you.”

Bahorel cleared his throat. “And to be honest, we’re worried about you too, Ferre,” he said softly.

“I’m fine!” Combeferre said sharply. He sighed, clutching the fabric and wires tighter. “Look, I know I haven’t been… myself, lately. But I’ve just got this really strong feeling that Courfeyrac is still out there, and he’s trying to get in touch with us.” He held up one of the wires, silver with a pink circle attached to the end. “All I have to do is get this sensor to recognise Courfeyrac’s emotional presence, and I’ll find him. But… I’m going to need some help.”

Bahorel sighed sadly, getting to his feet. “Sorry, Ferre. I’m on flight patrol duty today.”

Grantaire nodded, joining Bahorel. “And I’m his co-pilot today. I’m… really sorry, mate.”

“And I’m meeting Jehan,” Feuilly added. “Good luck, Ferre. Sorry I can’t be more help.”

Marius was silent, staring at his knees, but after a moment he stood up from the couch. “I’ll help you, Ferre.”

The look of excitement and gratitude on Combeferre’s face almost made up for Marius’ certainty that the device would prove fruitless.

 

* * *

 

**Meanwhile, at Votirlu…**

“Why am I unable to morph?” Tholomyès growled, pacing up and down the study. Gueulemer looked up from where he was lazing in a red velvet armchair.

“What does it matter?”

Tholomyès glared at him. “If I am unable to morph, I am unable to infiltrate –” Gueulemer yawned – “all of the dimensions I need to enter to –” Gueulemer yawned again, this time with definite purpose, and Tholomyès grit his teeth – “to collect the power I need to take over Magix completely!”

Babet stretched out atop the desk, yawning in a _getting-up_ sort of manner as opposed to Gueulemer’s _I-can’t-be-bothered-listening-to-you_ way. “I could help you,” he suggested, but scowled when Tholomyès ignored him and continued pacing.

“I’ve been looking for a solution all day,” the Warlock said agitatedly, “but I can’t seem to focus intensely enough – too many distractions…”

Claquesous cleared her throat with a smile. “You’re probably just tired. Becoming the most powerful sorcerer in the Magic Dimension is hard work that would make anyone stressed. Why don’t you just conquer another world? It will relax you.” Babet scowled at the back of Claquesous’ head, but Tholomyès was nodding thoughtfully.

“I think that’s a great idea,” he smiled, eyes flickering towards Babet for a brief second before returning to Claquesous. “You really do get me, Claquesous.” He ignored Babet’s mutinous expression and clapped his hands, making the huge magical map appear in front of the desk. “Here, my dear. You choose the planet for me.”

Claquesous, glowing at Tholomyès calling her ‘his dear’, got to her feet and scanned the planets that were still lit up. Her eyes fell on one with a peaceful blue surface. “That one.”

Tholomyès followed her finger to the planet she was pointing at, and his eyes lit up with excitement. “Ohm.”

“The most peaceful planet in the Magic Dimension,” Claquesous grinned. “You’ll be able to relax, steal their magic, and come back ready to rule.”

Tholomyès grinned. “Right. Ohm is colloquially called Planet Chill. I’ll be back.” And with that, he pressed the image of the planet, and both he and the map vanished with a flash of white light.

As soon as it faded, Babet leapt off the desk and pointed a sharpened fingernail at Claquesous’ nose. “No, but really, how could he listen to _you?”_

Claquesous shrugged, a smirk playing around her mouth. “Hey, you heard the man. I’m the one who really _gets_ him.”

Babet let out a sort of strangled shriek, but Gueulemer interrupted him. “You two are pathetic,” the Witch of Storms snorted, swinging his legs up onto the recently vacated desk and lounging deeper into his chair. “You’re practically throwing yourselves at him! You’re both making an exhibition of yourself. Don’t either of you have any pride?”

Babet and Claquesous both fixed him with incredulous looks. “Who are you to talk?” they chorused.

Gueulemer spluttered and started struggling to sit upright, but the chair was deeper than he’d expected (and quite possibly cursed) so the next part of the conversation was conducted with most of his thighs and abdomen out of sight while his limbs flailed. “Are you serious? What makes you think I’m interested in Félix?” Babet and Claquesous burst out laughing, and Gueulemer growled, still struggling with the chair. “What? _What?”_

 

* * *

 

_Cosette awoke in a world of white mist. The ground wasn’t rocky like she had been expecting; rather, it didn’t feel like anything at all. She slowly got to her feet and looked around; she couldn’t see any sign of the hole she had fallen down, and her body hurt far less than she had expected. Only a few moments ago she had been covered in scratches and scrapes from running through the forest, but now there were only a few scars visible – black cracks in her skin here and there that she couldn’t attribute to any particular accident or battle._

_“What is this place?” she murmured. “Where am I?” She jumped upon hearing a familiar voice behind her._

_“Euphrasie!” the voice said, and Cosette turned to see a ball of pink light floating in the air, just higher than the top of her head. There was only one person she knew who both called her by her birth name and tended to manifest as a ball of pink light._

_“Mum?” Cosette whispered. A musical chuckle confirmed it, and Cosette buried her face in her hands. “Mum… mummy, I think I’m lost.”_

_“I wouldn’t quite say that,” Fantine replied. “All you need to do to know where you are going is to remember where you come from.”_

_Cosette frowned at the ground. “I came here to get stronger… but I don’t know how.”_

_“You need to look within,” Fantine replied. “Find the Dragon.”_

_“Which dragon?”_

_“ **Your** Dragon, darling Euphrasie…”_

The light faded, as did the mist, and Cosette slowly opened her eyes. She was still in the cave, the light from the hole filtering down, bathing it in a dim light her eyes were quickly adjusting to. In order to speed up the process, she blinked.

Something blinked back.

Cosette screamed. The baby dragon screamed too, zooming away into the dark of the cave, and as Cosette became more accustomed to the gloom, she realised it was a tiny little thing, with a body no bigger than her own head and a wingspan of maybe a foot at most, trembling in a corner of the cave. She approached it cautiously, but it seemed to calm down the closer she got.

“Who are you?” Cosette wasn’t sure why she’d bothered to ask a dragon a question at all, but to her surprise the dragon blinked and flitted up to hover in front of her. Its wings beat far slower than her own did, but it treaded air with ease.

And then it spoke.

“I’m Buddy,” the dragon said – in perfect English! “What are you doing on Pyros?”

“W-well,” Cosette stuttered, “I’m a Faery. And I’m here to get stronger.”

Buddy cocked his head to one side. “How are you going to do that?”

“I – I don’t really know.”

The baby dragon considered her for a moment. “Maybe I could help you?”

Perhaps it was the shock from the fall, or maybe the surprise that the dragon could talk, but Cosette found herself nodding. “Yes, please, that would be wonderful.”

 

* * *

 

Marius watched Combeferre unfurl the green fabric into a full-body suit with five long wires attached to the fingers of the left hand, helped him to struggle into it and untangle the wires, and finally plug them into a device he’d connected to his computer. Almost as soon as the last wire was plugged in, the computer’s monitor lit up green, and Combeferre pressed a button on his wrist. A second later, an image of Courfeyrac’s face showed up on the monitor, and Marius felt sick to his stomach remembering that the goofy, cheerful teenage boy pictured was the same one who only a few days before had been sucked into the mother of all voids.

“I uploaded the image of Courf so the locator knows what he looks like,” Combeferre explained. “Now I just have to make it understand who he is.”

Marius nodded approvingly. “Go for it.”

Combeferre nervously cleared his throat, before pressing the record button on his keyboard. “Courfeyrac’s favourite subjects are Quantum Gravity and Chaos Theory. He likes nachos. He is one of the youngest members of the IMPS – that is, the International Magical Physics Society –”

The computer beeped disappointingly, and Combeferre sighed. “It’s not working. If it was, the image would send back emotional pulses –”

“Ferre,” Marius interrupted firmly, “if anyone is going to make this contraption work, it’s going to be you. But there’s got to be more you can share about Courfeyrac. You need to get more personal.”

Combeferre took a deep breath, nodding. “Yeah… yeah, you’re right.” He cleared his throat again, before pressing the record button. “Courfeyrac is my boyfriend. He is very kind and supportive, and a wonderful friend.” The computer beeped again, and Combeferre groaned. “It’s not working!”

Marius frowned thoughtfully. “Maybe you need to think less about what makes Courfeyrac himself, and more how he makes you feel. You need to look really deep into your feelings.”

“Aw, man,” Combeferre moaned. “How the heck do I do that?”

Marius grinned and reached for his phone. “With some expert advice. And I know just who to call.”

 

* * *

 

“So, do you live here in this cave, Buddy?” Cosette asked as she followed the little dragon towards what he explained was another exit.

Buddy shook his head. “I live in Molten Creak.”

“Where’s that?”

“It’s the lava field on the other side of the volcano.” They emerged, blinking, into the sunlight, and Cosette glanced over at her guide. In the daylight, his scales glittered green, while his wings and eyes were both gold. Like a whale’s, his mouth curved up towards his eyes, curling around at the ends like a permanent smile – although in spite of this, he looked anything but happy at that moment.

“What’s the matter?” Cosette asked worriedly. The little dragon’s eyes filled with salty tears.

“I… I got separated from my family. I want to go back home, but I’m too scared to go by myself.”

Cosette rushed over and pulled him into a hug. “Don’t cry! Don’t worry, Buddy, I’ll go with you!”

Buddy blinked up at her. “You will?” When Cosette nodded, he blinked the remaining tears out of his eyes. “Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy! Thank you, thank you so much!” He scuttled up and settled around her neck like a scarf. His body was surprisingly warm for a reptile.

Cosette smiled and stroked his little head. “No problem, Buddy.”

 

* * *

 

The midday sun shone down on Ohm, illuminating every front room of every house as far as the eye could see. One young woman wearing a yellow and orange poncho (traditional Ohm clothing) had decided to take advantage of the light by reorganising her living room furniture (which, when you had magic, was an absolute breeze), while a small boy also wearing a poncho wandered through the park across from her house, pausing to smile up at a small bird twittering out a sweet melody. In the clearing next to him was a delicate pool of water, above which dangled five tiny wind chimes that glittered with the purest peace magic, identifiable as magic not from the quality of the shimmer, but rather from the telling presence of four armed monkey guards.

Félix Tholomyès assessed the situation from atop a pagoda roof, before leaping down and standing tall in front of the monkeys. “If a monkey falls into a fountain,” he mused, “does it make a sound?”

The monkey in front of him drew his sword, and Tholomyès grinned. “Let’s find out, shall we?”

As the monkey ran towards him, Tholomyès raised his hand and cast a spell that sent the creature flying straight into the water. Tholomyès raised his eyebrows. “Apparently it does.” He chuckled as the other three guards surrounded him, and glanced from side to side with a mocking smile stretched across his face. As all three monkeys leapt at him, he didn’t move until almost the last second, before blasting the first with a highly-incapacitating curse, and throwing his coat at the second. The monkey was suddenly struggling to escape the coat, which was attacking him like a sentient being, and Tholomyès took a moment to smirk at the sight.

He regretted the choice a moment later, when the third monkey tackled him to the ground and brought its sword down towards his head. Tholomyès rolled out of the way, letting the sword get stuck in the ground, and while the monkey was attempting to pull it free, the Warlock hit it with a powerful blasting spell, sending it flying backwards towards the fountain, this time with enough momentum that when it hit the structure, the air filled with the smoke of an explosion.

Tholomyès stepped through the smoke towards the wreckage, grinning when he found the five wind chimes on the ground, unshattered. He raised his hands with a chuckle, and a glow of purple and gold light filled the air, zooming straight into his hands. Tholomyès let out a deep, contented breath as he absorbed the light, a small smile making its way onto his face as each of the chimes cracked down the middle.

Almost immediately, the sky filled with murky clouds that began to spit greenish-grey rain down onto the planet. Amidst the shrieks of people rushing for cover, he could hear the small boy shouting at the bird to shut up. Another scream came from the houses across from the park, not that of a person being rained upon, but someone who had just received an enormous, on-going fright…

To his delight, the woman who had been arranging her furniture was now cowering on the floor as her sofas, tables, lamps and armchairs spun about the room as though possessed. Tholomyès smiled, picked his coat off the groaning monkey, and sat down in the lotus position, closing his eyes and listening to the soothing sounds of a city in turmoil.

_Now **this** is relaxing._

And with that, he vanished.

 

* * *

 

“Thank you so much, you guys,” Marius smiled as he led Enjolras, Éponine and Musichetta into the apartment. “Combeferre really needs your help expressing himself.”

Éponine raised an eyebrow. “Uh, could you be more specific?”

Combeferre held up his gloved hand, showing off the wires. “Well, I’ve been trying to get this sensor to recognise and locate Courfeyrac’s presence, but Marius reckons the only way I can do that is by expressing my true inner feelings about him.”

All three Faeries’ eyes widened. “So you think there’s still a chance that he survived?” Musichetta asked. “And that we could find him?

“I am totally positive that he did, and that we can,” Combeferre said firmly. “But I need your help.”

Enjolras, Éponine and Musichetta all exchanged glances with a grin, before Enjolras cleared his throat in Marius’ direction. The recently redeemed Prince of Eraklyon realised what Enjolras meant. “Oh. Right. I’ll, uh, leave you guys too it.”

As soon as Marius’ bedroom door closed, Musichetta turned to Combeferre with a warm smile. “So, Ferre, how do you feel when you’re with Courfeyrac?”

Combeferre blinked, frowning a little, before answering. “I feel… good,” he said hesitantly. At Musichetta’s encouraging nod, he continued more confidently, “I just… love the way he is.”

“And what do you love about him?” Musichetta asked. Combeferre’s mouth curved into a shy smile.

“Everything.”

“Well, that’s a good start,” Enjolras smiled. “Now just fill in the details.”

“I might have an idea,” Éponine said thoughtfully. “Combeferre, close your eyes.” Combeferre blinked in surprise, but did so, and the Faery of Music continued, “Now, focus on one of your memories of Courfeyrac.” After a moment, the smile on Combeferre’s face grew wider, and Éponine grinned. “He’s right there in front of you, isn’t he? Now, tell us what you really love about him…”

“I love how he can add numbers in his head,” Combeferre started with a smile, “no matter how ridiculously huge. I love that he beats me at videogames and never apologises for it. I love that he laughs at all my jokes, even though I know my jokes are never that funny. He just makes me so happy to be… me.”

“He must really like you,” Éponine said softly. Combeferre nodded.

“He’s not just my boyfriend,” he said, his voice full of conviction. “He’s my **best friend**.”

Musichetta smiled, her eyes sparkling with tears. “You really love a lot of things about him, don’t you?”

Combeferre nodded as he opened his eyes, surprised to find that his cheeks were damp. “The two of us are… like… _connected.”_

Enjolras sniffled a little at the confession, but suddenly his attention was caught by a beeping light on the screen, and he gasped in amazement. “Combeferre, look!”

Combeferre turned to the screen, and his eyes widened upon seeing the dot. “I don’t believe it. It worked!” He realised he had tears dripping down his cheeks, but didn't bother wiping them. “He survived! Courfeyrac is alive!”

 

* * *

 

The forest was still and silent; as far as Cosette could tell, she and Buddy were the only creatures around. Still, she wasn’t ready to gamble with her own life again, so they spoke in whispers as they pushed through the jungle brush – or rather, Cosette pushed while Buddy flitted along at head height.

“I still don’t know why I couldn’t take down those dragons,” Cosette was saying. “My spells should have been powerful enough to at least knock them out for five minutes – even without my Charmix.”

Buddy shook his head. “In order to beat a dragon, you’ve got to _be_ a dragon.”

Cosette frowned, remembering Myriel’s words to her before she had left. _I do not believe you are a dragon – at least, not yet._ “How would I go about becoming a dragon, then?” she asked thoughtfully.

She’d almost been expecting an Obi Wan Kenobi-esque lecture about how it would take years to truly master being a dragon, but instead Buddy chuckled and said, “It’s easy! Follow me and do what I do.”

Cosette blinked. “OK.” Buddy led her into a clearing, where he touched down on the ground and reared up on his back two legs, marching about with his little chin in the air. Cosette followed him, stepping smartly into the clearing, but Buddy shook his head.

“You can’t just _walk,”_ he explained. “You have to walk like a _dragon._ Here, like this.” And he marched off again, but this time Cosette noticed that he was swinging his arms with purpose, taking efficient but not overly large steps, and how his chest puffed out and his head tilted up. Clenching her fists, she followed him.

 _Arms move with purpose and control. Don’t try to step further than you need to. Chest out, chin up._ She glanced at Buddy’s face, and added another note: Be _confident but stay alert._

“Closer,” Buddy nodded. “Hmmm… look over there.” Cosette turned in the direction he was pointing, at three Trimadillos clustered in the shade of a large tree. “See those guys? You’ve got to show ‘em who’s boss. Shoulders back, head up.”

“Shoulders back, head up,” Cosette repeated nervously. She took a deep breath and started towards the Trimadillos. _Shoulders back, head up_ , she repeated in her head. _Shoulders back, head up. Shoulders back, head **UP!**_

She stopped in front of the Trimadillos. Shoulders back, head up, face set. The Trimadillos surveyed her with dark eyes, before suddenly scattering.

Cosette’s jaw dropped, and Buddy made a whooping noise. “You did it!”

“I can walk like a dragon!” Cosette agreed with a grin. “What now?”

A smirk spread across Buddy’s face. “Now you must eat like one.”

The task itself hadn’t sounded pleasant, but Buddy’s demonstration made it a hundred times worse: he shot out his tongue like a chameleon and snatched an insect from the air, pulling it back into his mouth and biting down with a crunch. Cosette whimpered a little. “Ew,” she muttered.

Buddy fixed her with a golden eye. “You want to be a dragon, don’t you?”

Cosette sighed. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I–” Buddy interrupted with a large crunch as he bit into something with a shell, and Cosette shuddered. “Ew, no, no, I can’t. Isn’t there a vegetarian menu?”

Buddy finished off his… crunchy thing… with a smack of his lips. “Your loss,” he shrugged, leading her over to a thorny thicket. “The thornbush berries are the only fruit on the island.” He pointed into the thicket, and through the thorns Cosette caught sight of a cluster of tiny shimmery yellow berries. “They’re delicious,” Buddy added, “but a little hard to get to.” And with that, he dived into the thicket, re-emerging a few seconds later with a handful of berries and several thorns stuck in his arm. Cosette gasped in horror, but the little dragon merely plucked them out and dropped them back in the bush, before popping the entire cluster of berries into his mouth and chewing noisily.

“Doesn’t that hurt?”

“No… not really,” Buddy said, wiping his mouth. “Your turn.”

Cosette grimaced at the dot of greenish blood that had oozed out of one of Buddy’s thorn wounds. “Maybe I’ll go back and try that bug larva –”

“Too late,” Buddy said firmly. “Be the dragon, Cosette.”

Cosette sighed, and stuck her hand into the thicket, groping around for another cluster of berries. She winced as she felt the sharp thorns prick her skin, but soon her hand closed around a cluster of fruit, and she pulled it back out. To her surprise, there were barely any thorns stuck in her hand – only the tiny cuts from where they’d nicked her. She popped the entire cluster of berries into her mouth the way Buddy had and chewed. They were surprisingly soft and sweet.

“Good job!” Buddy grinned. “OK. Now that you can walk like a dragon, and eat like a dragon, there’s one more thing you need to learn.” He led her towards a rock and sat down on top of it. Cosette perched next to him, and Buddy continued, “You’ve got to roar like a dragon.”

He demonstrated, throwing his head back and letting out a reptilian screech that echoed through the trees. Cosette applauded with a grin. “Wow, that was great!”

Buddy took a bow. “Thank you, thank you. The trick is to really _feel_ the roar. It comes from somewhere inside you. It’s like screaming or crying or laughing; it comes from the same place.”

Cosette got to her feet with a grin. “Well, I’ll give it a try.” She threw her head back the same way Buddy had, but the noise that came out was reminiscent of a toddling kitten. She turned to her guide with a sheepish look. “How was that?”

Buddy made a face. “Hey, roaring is tough. It takes time.”

“I’ll try again.” Cosette threw her head back and pictured what he’d told her, that the roar was coming from that place inside her that held her anger and sadness and joy. The sound that came out this time was slightly more substantial, more like an angry mother cat, and Buddy nodded.

“Better. You’re getting there.”

Cosette beamed. “Let’s keep practicing.”

 

* * *

 

As they flew over the forests of Magix in the Owl, Combeferre explained how his equipment would work. “According to my calculations, once the machine sends its signal up to the satellite locator in space, we should be able to triangulate Courfeyrac’s position within minutes.”

“I hope so,” Enjolras sighed. “He’s been by himself in the Omega Dimension for too long.”

Marius glanced over from the steering panel. “All set.”

“OK,” Combeferre nodded. “Time to go.” His finger hovered over the button, and the computer started beeping. Enjolras frowned.

“Does that mean it’s working?”

Combeferre bit his lip in thought. “Somehow,” he said after a moment, “I think we should all do this together.”

“What, push the button together?” Éponine asked. “To make the signal stronger?”

Combeferre nodded, and Musichetta smiled. “That’s a great idea.” She, Enjolras and Éponine reached out, and together, they and Combeferre pressed the button to find their missing friend.

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès arrived back at Votirlu to find Gueulemer still stuck in the armchair, Babet lying on the desk flipping angrily through a book, and Claquesous sitting upright in her own chair, staring into the distance with a smile on her face, which she turned towards him the second she noticed him.

“Félix!” she said excitedly, getting to her feet. “Wow, you’re glowing!”

“Yes,” Tholomyès smiled. “I have achieved inner peace. And I brought gifts!” He clicked his fingers, and instantly Gueulemer and Babet were wrapped in vivid yellow and orange cotton ponchos.

Gueulemer glared down at his poncho, suspecting Tholomyès had probably added some sort of spell to make sure they couldn’t remove them. “This thing is hideous,” he growled.

Babet was trying fruitlessly to tug his own poncho over his head, but to no avail, confirming Gueulemer’s theory. “Change us back!” he demanded. Tholomyès chuckled.

“You look good, boys. Those colours are proven to have a calming effect.” He turned to Claquesous and clicked his fingers again, making a beautiful golden bracelet appear on her wrist. “And as for you, this is made of Hematite. It wards off negative energy.” He smirked as Claquesous admired the bracelet with a bedazzled expression, and pointed at her two poncho-clad cousins. “I thought you could use it around those two.”

Babet made a furious noise, which Tholomyès ignored, instead taking his coat off and dropping it on a makeshift coatrack (read: Gueulemer’s head). He sat down in the lotus position again, closing his eyes as a blissful smile came over his face. With a tiny flash of black light, a travel-sized fountain and an incense burner appeared next to him. Gueulemer pulled the coat off his head with an angry mutter, but his jaw dropped when he caught sight of Tholomyès.

“Are you… _meditating?”_

“Yes, I am,” Tholomyès said softly. “When you relax the mind, you relax the body. Now I’m going to figure out how to morph.”

“You’re a little _too_ chilled,” Babet said grumpily, before scowling at Claquesous. “This is all _your_ fault!”

Claquesous’ hand drifted to her bracelet, a dopey smile making its way onto her face. “I like him like that.”

Tholomyès paid them no attention. _Metamorphous… metamorphous… metamorphous!_ There was a sudden flash, and suddenly Babet and Claquesous huddled together while Gueulemer sank back into his armchair, all eyes fixed on the streak of silver that shot around the room. It was liquid for a moment – then fire – then plasma – before finally settling into the shape of a man before turning to metal, then back to flesh and bone. All three Witches’ jaws dropped.

“Was that you?” Gueulemer gasped.

“Sweet,” Babet murmured.

“Amazing,” Claquesous breathed.

Tholomyès grinned. _Now nothing can stand in my way._

 

* * *

 

“This is it,” Buddy announced, coming to a halt. “This is the Volcano Ridge. Are you ready?”

Cosette nodded. “Definitely.” Buddy made a face that suggested he was incredulously raising an eyebrow at her.

“This ridge is filled with tar pits, and is home to some of the biggest, fiercest, meanest dragons on the island. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Cosette grimaced. “Well, it’s not exactly my idea of a good time, but if it means you’ll get home safe, Buddy, then I’m ready.”

The volcano had been threatening enough from an aerial vantage point without taking into account the badlands that led up to it. The ground was made mainly from basalt, but here and there it shone in the late evening sunlight, giving away the locations of the tar pits. A river of lava ran down the mountainside, disappearing down into what Cosette assumed was the canyon she’d been in earlier. And here and there, boulders moved slowly between the tar pits.

Cosette blinked. Boulders?

Not boulders. Rock Dragons.

Commonly remembered as the most vicious breed known to man or monster.

“Let’s go,” Cosette murmured. The two of them started forward, being careful to avoid the tar pits, and before they knew it they were starting up the side of the mountain – but suddenly the ground shook, and Cosette braced herself against the apparent earthquake. Oddly, it hadn’t disturbed the volcano at all, the lava continuing to flow calmly down the rocky mountainside – which was, Cosette realised, a very different shade of brown to the rock they were standing on.

“Buddy,” she said quietly, “I don’t think we’re on the mountain.”

The ground shook again, and Cosette looked down with a wince.

A fully-grown male Rock Dragon. Judging from the size, over 100 years old.

“This is the Mountain Dragon,” Buddy whispered. “He only wakes up if there are intruders on the mountain. Dragons protect their own, and he’s here to protect us from any threats – but he will eat smaller dragons given the chance.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to be super quiet,” Cosette whispered back. Buddy nodded.

“Remember, Cosette. Be the dragon.”

Cosette nodded, and they started forward again. But disaster struck not three steps away – her foot caught on an osteoderm on the Mountain Dragon’s back, and she tripped forward onto her face. With a nasty jolt, the Mountain Dragon stopped snoring.

It was with a horrid slowness that the back of its head rose up in front of her, and twisted around to see who had stood on it. As Cosette slowly got to her feet, Buddy squeaked, “It’s OK, big guy. You can go back to sleep now.”

The Mountain Dragon was not soothed. It roared loudly at them – a sound that rattled Cosette’s bones – and suddenly, a huge shadow fell over Cosette and Buddy, Cosette turning to see the enormous, muscular tale swatting at her. She ducked, and Buddy flew higher to avoid it, but the dragon was not satisfied. The tail swatted back – and this time its mark was true, and Cosette was sent flying through the air, landing hard on her back.

“Cosette!” Buddy shouted, his voice panicked. “Cosette! Are you – AAAAAAAAARGH!”

Cosette slowly sat up, and her eyes widened at the sight before her. The Mountain Dragon was up on its haunches, with Buddy caught firmly in one fist. Cosette launched herself to her feet, sprinting to help her tiny friend. “I’M COMING, BUDDY!” She leapt into the air just as the Mountain Dragon opened its mouth. “DRAGON CURSE-”

The Mountain Dragon swatted her out of the air with one huge hand before she could complete the spell, and this time she landed right in a tar pit. Cosette fought her way to the surface in time to see the Mountain Dragon start climbing up the side of the volcano, its hand still clenched around Buddy, whose panicked shouts drifted back to her.

“COSETTE! HELP ME!”

Cosette struggled out of the tar pit, preparing to take off again, but realised with growing horror that her wings were stuck together – completely useless. “No!” she gasped, and Buddy’s voice drifted over again.

“COSETTE! HELP! I DON’T WANNA BE LUNCH! HEEEEEEEEEELP!”

“Be a dragon,” Cosette muttered. “Be a dragon!” She closed her eyes, and with tremendous effort, forced her wings to spring apart with enough force that the tar was flung off of them. “I AM A DRAGON!” she screamed as she took off. “AND DRAGONS PROTECT THEIR OWN!”

She could feel the fire flickering around her as she shot towards the Mountain Dragon, which turned to face her, its big orange eyes opening wide in shock. She sped up, feeling the flames form the shape of a dragon – not just any dragon, but the Dragon itself. With a deep, throaty scream, she stopped hard in mid-air, but her Dragon continued forward towards the Mountain Dragon, who suddenly looked like it wished it hadn’t woken up. The Dragon exploded inches from its face, making the enormous beast flinch away, and Cosette stared it down with hard eyes, sending a message that didn’t need to be spoken.

_Leave. My. Friend. Alone._

The Mountain Dragon, with all its enormous rage and strength and fierce jaws, now looked more like a sheepish weasel. Cosette narrowed her eyes.

_Leave._

The Mountain Dragon fled, dropping Buddy like a hot potato. Cosette immediately dived after her friend, managing to snatch him out of the air a few feet above the ground.

“Are you OK?” she gasped, turning him over to check his scales for injuries.

“I’m fine!” Buddy beamed. “You did it!”

Cosette smiled and hugged her friend, glancing around to make sure the Mountain Dragon didn’t have any bright ideas – but to her surprise, it was at the foot of the volcano, fast asleep again.

“How come it’s gone back to sleep?”

Buddy beamed. “Because there are no more intruders, Cosette! You are a dragon now!”

 

* * *

 

“Ferre…”

Combeferre looked away from Marius, who sighed sadly. “Ferre, we haven’t had any results since we got back.”

“It just needs a little more time –”

“You said we’d be making contact within minutes,” Enjolras reminded him. “It’s been three hours.”

“Sorry, Ferre,” Éponine added. “We’ll have to get back to Musain, or we’ll miss curfew.”

“It’s OK,” Combeferre sighed. “You guys go. I have to stay.”

“He’s out there somewhere, Ferre,” Enjolras said softly. “We know that much.”

“Yeah,” Éponine nodded. “Don’t give up.”

“Anything you need,” Musichetta said firmly. “We’re here for you, remember that.”

Combeferre smiled tiredly. “Thanks.”

Marius sighed and put a hand on Enjolras’ shoulder. “I’ll walk you guys out.” He followed the three Faeries out the door, but glanced back at his friend, staring listlessly at his computer screen.

As the door swung shut behind Marius, Combeferre slumped down and buried his face in his elbows. He couldn’t believe that he was so close, and yet so far from finding Courfeyrac. Memories began floating across his mind, whether he wanted them to or not:

 

* * *

 

_“Are you listening, Courf?”_

_Courfeyrac startled, and pushed his hair out of his eyes. Combeferre couldn’t help but notice the little golden flecks amongst the green of the other boy’s irises. “Yes, of course, Ferre,” Courfeyrac said awkwardly. “You were talking about… low transmission rates, right?”_

_“Uh, yeah,” Combeferre nodded. He removed his glasses, hurriedly polishing them on his cloak, before pushing them back up his nose. “Um, alright then. Could you check the stability levels of the energy barrier, please?”_

_Courfeyrac obediently pressed various buttons, opening the correct file. As it was downloading, he glanced back over at Combeferre and took a deep breath. “Ferre?”_

_Combeferre looked up so quickly he nearly knocked his glasses off again. “Yes?”_

_Courfeyrac shook his head silently and continued loading the statistics. “It’s completely stable. We’re all good.”_

_Combeferre smiled and turned back to his computer screen, but couldn’t help but wonder if Courfeyrac had been about to say something else._

* * *

_“I’m sorry, Courf. I let you down again. You know me.”_

_“I thought I did,” Courfeyrac sighed, “but I was wrong. I’ve been so stupid, you were amazing today.”_

_“Really? I mean, I didn’t do anything special. Bahorel designed all the traps, and Marius and Grantaire did all the heavy lifting…”_

_Courfeyrac yanked him up. “But you were the one who made it work!” To everyone’s surprise, his eyes were filling with tears, and he pulled Combeferre into a tight hug. “I jumped to conclusions about you because I didn’t have all the data. But that’s not the point. I was so scared I was going to lose you!”_

_“Are – Courf, are you crying?”_

_Courfeyrac shrugged, looking down embarrassedly. “I really didn’t like not liking you. Y’know?”_

_Combeferre chuckled. “I know. But Courf, that sentence was very illogical.”_

_In spite of his tears, Courfeyrac burst into watery giggles._

* * *

_“Courf, I… I’ll never be a hero with a sword, but… I want to be your hero.” His cheeks turned the same colour as Éponine’s dress, and Courfeyrac found himself blushing too._

_“Ferre,” he said softly, “you already are.”_

_Combeferre’s brown eyes sparkled, and he reached up to his face, taking off his glasses. Courfeyrac didn't think he’d ever seen him without his glasses before. They smiled at each other for a moment, before leaning in as one and sharing a first kiss that was sweet, a little awkward, but mostly full of love and admiration. When they pulled away, Courfeyrac smiled smittenly up at Combeferre._

_“Now put your glasses back on before you bump into something.”_

 

* * *

 

For the first time since the news had broken, Combeferre wondered if it really was hopeless, and that Courfeyrac was gone forever. He drifted off into an uneasy rest, not hearing the computer begin to beep.

“Combeferre? Combeferre! I’M HERE! COMBEFERRE! COMBEFERRE?”

 

* * *

 

As they rounded the volcano, Buddy stopped and grinned. “We’re here, Cosette! Molten Creak.”

Cosette squinted out over the lava field, searching for anything resembling Buddy’s parents. She frowned at the sight of the empty plain, marked only by a second lava river. “Really? There’s nothing here. I thought you said this was your home.”

“It is,” Buddy said, so softly she was taken aback, and turned to see the little dragon smiling fondly at her. “I’m your dragon, Cosette. With you, I’m home.”

He fluttered into her arms, and Cosette hugged him tightly, her eyes filling with happy tears. As they embraced, there was a flash of white hot light, and when she opened her eyes, Buddy was nowhere to be seen.

But a burning over her heart told her he wasn’t gone.

After all, he was her dragon. He was a part of her.


	16. In Which Cosette Makes A New Friend While The Others Make Enemies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette is still on Pyros trying to become stronger, while Combeferre waits for his computer to pick up a signal from Courfeyrac. Meanwhile, Tholomyès decides that with Cosette separated from the Amis, now is as good a time as ever to have Patron-Minette take her out...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My dumbass accidentally copied and pasted the chapter into the summary box. Enjoy.

_Bloop. Beep… Bloop. Beep…_

Combeferre stared listlessly at his computer screen, barely noticing the sun starting to rise outside the window. He’d become desensitized to all other noises other than his computer; Feuilly’s snoring, the birds starting to chirp outside, and even his own heartbeat were now nothing more than white noise in the background.

_Bloop. Beep… Bloop. Beep. Beep. Beep-beep-beep-beep-beep-beep –_

Combeferre’s eyes, which had been dangerously close to shutting, snapped open. It wasn’t his imagination; the computer had picked something up. He hurried to push his glasses back up his nose and enter a few commands on the keyboard; the image on the screen changed to a sinuoid graph – a transmission wave.

_Something’s trying to contact us from the Omega Dimension!_

Combeferre took a deep breath and pressed a button, the computer translating the beeps into words.

**“This is a transmission from the Omega Dimension. Can anybody hear me?”**

Combeferre listened to the message playing over and over again, the voice grainy but too familiar not to recognise. He’d done it.

He’d found Courfeyrac.

“Feuilly!” he yelled. “Wake up, wake up, wake up! He’s alive! Courfeyrac’s alive!”

Feuilly groaned and pulled off his sleep-mask, rubbing his eyes. “Wha-?”

“Look, look!” Combeferre said excitedly, pointing at his computer screen. Feuilly frowned at the graph, clearly at a loss as to what it was saying, and Combeferre impatiently pulled the headphones out of their socket so the voice rang out into the room.

**“This is a transmission from the Omega Dimension. Can anybody hear me?”**

Feuilly’s jaw dropped, and he scrambled out of bed, hurrying over to squint at the screen. As the message played again, he let out an amazed chuckle. “You did it.”

“He knew we’d never stop looking for him,” Combeferre murmured. He hurriedly started typing more commands, squinting intently at the screen. “If I don’t lose the signal… I can work out his location when he sent the message…”

After a few moments, the beeping stopped altogether, and Feuilly’s eyes widened. “What happened? You didn’t lose him, did you?”

Combeferre shook his head, letting out a relieved breath. “No. I got him just in time. He’s transmitting from Omega’s inner quadrant.” He giggled wildly. “Even in that frozen, forgotten wasteland, he’s found a way to survive. And now we know exactly where to find him!”

Feuilly reached for a bobble, hurriedly pulling his long hair into a ponytail, and rummaged around for his uniform. “Well, what are we waiting for? Let’s get the guys, load up the ship, and go find him!” Combeferre nodded, hurriedly sending the coordinates to a USB, while Feuilly grabbed his phone and called someone. The dial tone played for a moment before Jehan’s sleepy voice answered.

“Hello?”

“Courfeyrac is alive!” Combeferre shouted excitedly. “And we know where to find him!”

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès’ viewing portal closed and vanished, and he chuckled quietly to himself. “I love the deep dark dead of night,” he said aloud. “You discover the most interesting things when the sun goes down…” He looked up at the sound of a knock at his door. “Enter.”

Babet, Claquesous and Gueulemer slumped into the room, the bags under their eyes visible even from the other end of the office. “You better have a good reason for waking us up, Félix,” Babet hissed, clearly trying to sound threatening, but missing the mark substantially.

“I have an excellent reason,” Tholomyès replied, raising an eyebrow. “Courfeyrac has somehow managed to send a message to Corinthe from the Omega Dimension.”

All three Witches’ jaws dropped. “Impossible!” Gueulemer spluttered, but Tholomyès calmly leaned back in his seat.

“Relax,” he hummed. “The Amis’ chances of actually finding and rescuing him are next to zero.”

Babet shook his head, making a disgusted face. “We’ve learned to never underestimate how far they’ll go for friendship.”

Tholomyès made a considering noise. “True, but I’ve been watching them for a few days. It seems their fearless leader has gone MIA.”

Babet’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean? Where’s Cosette?”

Tholomyès got to his feet, quickly casting the spell that made his magical map appear. “From what they’ve said, I’ve gathered that our good friend Euphrasie is currently strengthening her powers on an island called Pyros – or, as it’s more commonly known, the Island of Dragons.” He smirked. “It would be a shame if something were to… happen to her before she returns, wouldn’t it?”

“In other words,” Babet smirked, “you want us to go there and ensure that it _does_ happen to her.”

Tholomyès chuckled. “You know me so well.”

 

* * *

 

Aerora had arrived at Musain looking far more stoic and put together than she had been the last time Myriel had seen her. He showed her up to his office and offered her a cup of tea, which she accepted gratefully. He didn’t miss the way her hands shook around the cup, though.

“At least… he was with his friends when it happened,” she managed after a while. Myriel nodded solemnly.

“From what I understand, he did it to protect them, as well as the rest of the world.” He paused before he continued, “Your son was amongst the bravest Faeries I have ever known.”

Aerora smiled sadly. “He was always brave. Ever since he was old enough to know the meaning of the word. I… I don’t quite know what I’ll do without him.” She finished her tea before getting to her feet. “I don’t suppose you could show me his memorial?”

Myriel got to his feet, nodding, and was about to lead her out of the room when the door was flung open before he could reach it.

“HEADMASTER!” Enjolras bellowed, sprinting into the room and skidding to a halt at Aerora’s feet. “COURFEYRAC IS ALIVE AND WE KNOW WHERE TO FIND HIM!”

 

* * *

 

Normally, of course, a student bursting into the headmaster’s office and yelling their head off would be grounds for punishment, particularly when the headmaster is with a grieving parent, but the nature of Enjolras’ announcement definitely made the incident an exception to the rules. Myriel and Aerora listened to his explanation with dropped jaws, and when he got to the part about leaving with the Wizards to find Courfeyrac that very day, Aerora immediately announced that she would accompany them.

“If anyone has survived the Omega Dimension,” she said firmly, “it will be my boy.”

 

* * *

 

It was agreed that Combeferre would lead the mission, and the team would consist of Feuilly, Grantaire, Enjolras, Éponine, Jehan, Musichetta and Aerora. Marius and Bahorel would be staying behind at Corinthe to help protect against potential attacks by Tholomyès, while Myriel would remain at Musain for the same reason. As he and Javert watched the rescue team board the ship from the window of his office, Javert commented that he was surprised Myriel hadn’t insisted on going with them.

“The dangers may be great, Javert,” Myriel replied, “but I believe it is their destiny to save their friend. I have faith that they will succeed, and that Les Amis may be fully reunited before we even know it.”

 

* * *

 

Cosette awoke in a clearing. The ground wasn’t soft, but it was more forgiving than the rocky mountainsides would have been, and more comfortable than spending the night in a tree. The dragons hadn't thought to attack her; she was one of them now. She hurried over to the lake, scooping up the fresh water and drinking it out of her hands, ignoring the slightly bitter taste it seemed to have. Cosette took a moment to look at her reflection, for the first time since she’d arrived – indeed, for the first time since she’d learned the truth.

It was a sight to behold. In fact, she doubted her friends would have recognised her – _she_ barely recognised herself. She’d been covered in filth and twigs and sap before, and had scratches and bruises before, and had horribly tangled hair before, but never any of them to this extent. Her clothes were covered in mud, tar stains and tree-sap; there didn’t seem to be a square inch of skin visible that wasn’t either scratched or bruised, and calling her hair a ‘bird’s nest’ at this point was probably too kind. The vibrant pale gold had dulled a little with dirt and lack of care, almost the same colour as –

 _No. It’s **my** hair, not his. _“I am not like you, Tholomyès,” she said quietly, telling her reflection, the woods, and most of all, herself. “I am a dragon. I am a dragon!” Cosette stood, allowing herself to feel her own anger, her own pain, her own determination. That was the one thing that hadn’t changed in her reflection; her eyes were still very much her own, and still full of that same spark of determination they’d always had. Buddy burned over her heart, a constant reminder of the love she was capable of – the love that separated her from her fa- from him. _He is not worthy of being called my father._ The only father she’d ever known was Jean Valjean, who was a thousand – no, a million times the man Tholomyès was.

With that thought burning in her mind, Cosette took a deep breath, pushed her chest out, and roared as loud as she could, just as Buddy had taught her. _I am not like Tholomyès,_ the roar said. _I know who I am. I am a dragon, and I’m going to defeat him._

 

* * *

 

“I’m terribly sorry we had to meet under such grim circumstances,” Aerora said conversationally as the ship soared through space. “Courfeyrac has told me a lot about all of you. He rarely stops talking about his wonderful friends from Musain.” She sighed a little. “While he’s always been smart, curious, and brave, he never really blossomed until he started college. Even if we… can’t find him, I’m glad he got the chance to make friends like all of you.”

Feuilly turned his attention from the conversation to Grantaire, who was steering the ship almost mechanically, his mind clearly elsewhere. “You alright, mate?” he asked the water Wizard quietly.

Grantaire jumped a little, before nodding at Feuilly. “Yeah… sorry. I was just thinking about Cosette and Marius.” He pushed a few buttons, ensuring they were on the right course. “Marius really wanted to make things right with Cosette. He’s completely blaming himself for what happened on Eraklyon, even though he was cursed. He doesn’t say it, but I reckon it’s killing him inside that he didn’t get back to Magix quickly enough to apologise before she left for Pyros.” He raised his voice. “OK, everyone buckle in. We’ll soon be approaching Omega, and we need to enter at maximum speed to get through the atmosphere.”

 

* * *

 

The ground was shaking.

Cosette braced herself, her stomach churning unpleasantly, hoping it was just a tiny tremor. A forest on a volcanic island like Pyros is about the worst place you can be during an earthquake; you are constantly at risk of falling trees, tidal waves, or worst of all, a volcanic eruption. However, there was one option Cosette hadn’t considered, and it was the one that befell her: the ground started to crack along what she guessed was the fault-line. Cosette had read about sinkholes opening up during earthquakes – heck, she’d even read an article about the unsolved mystery of an entire mansion in California completely vanishing during an earthquake – but this was far scary than the books and reports had made it out to be. The crack was barely two feet away from her, and was rapidly widening, and the ground was shaking too rapidly for her to move. Not to mention, she was beginning to feel seriously lightheaded. All Cosette could really do was take a deep breath and close her eyes as the crack became more of a hole, getting closer and closer until she was falling –

Something grabbed her wrist. Cosette’s hazy vision only computed that it was a rope made of glowing bronze light before she fainted.

 

* * *

 

She awoke in a cave. As her eyelids fluttered, she noticed that the floor felt softer than rock, and the walls were glittering with obsidian deposits, and there was a hole in the ceiling that a thin stream of smoke was floating up towards…

Smoke meant fire. Cosette shot up, looking around with wild eyes, then groaned as her head spun. Someone tutted from somewhere to the left.

“You’ve been drinking the unfiltered lagoon water. It’s not good for us humans. Dirty.”

Cosette breathed deeply until her vision stopped spinning, and looked up to see the wizened face, the long, elegant neck, and the slender body of an old woman draped in a purple cloak and sitting cross-legged next to a small campfire. The woman raised her eyebrows. “You were declining rapidly when that tremor hit. I got you just in time.”

 _The bronze rope was you,_ Cosette tried to say, but all that came out was dry coughing. The woman reached for a clay jug and cup, pouring water from the jug into the cup and handing it to Cosette.

“This water has been purified by both heat and magic; it should be safe for you to drink. I had to oust the lagoon water from your body, so you’ll be feeling a bit dehydrated.”

Cosette drank, and immediately felt better. The old woman surveyed her with wide silvery eyes. “I am Maya,” she introduced herself. “I live here on Pyros, where few can reach and fewer can survive.”

Cosette put her empty cup down. “So I’ve been learning,” she joked, finding her voice at last. “My name is Cosette – or Euphrasie – both, really. I go to school in Magix.”

Maya reached for a long white stick, which Cosette realised after a moment was a staff made of bone. She used it to get to her feet, before offering Cosette a hand up. Cosette took the proffered hand cautiously, worrying she might pull Maya over, but Maya was apparently far stronger than she looked, and easily pulled Cosette upright. “Pyros is no place for a schoolgirl,” she frowned. “Why have you come here, Cosette?”

“Professor Myriel – the headmaster of my school – thought that if I came here, I could become stronger,” Cosette explained. “My powers come from the Dragon Fire, so he thought I could learn from the Dragons. I have learned a little – but nothing that would help me… in… in the long run.” She thought she maybe shouldn’t mention the part about killing Tholomyès straight off the bat, but Maya continued staring silently at her, and Cosette wondered if maybe Maya knew already.

“You seek to right a great wrong,” Maya said at last. “Indeed, many great wrongs committed by a single person.”

Cosette nodded. “My – mother’s murderer.” She nearly said ‘my father’, but couldn’t bear to remind herself.

Maya blinked slowly, and Cosette felt a little like she was being scanned. “He has murdered many more than your mother,” she said quietly. “You wish to avenge all of them, even if it is at the cost of your own life. Your motives are very noble.” She turned slowly, beckoning for Cosette to follow her, and started forward towards what seemed to be the cave’s exit. Cosette hurried after her.

“The people of my own planet were destroyed by the three Ancestral Witches,” she explained. “I don’t know how to save them, and I have no way of getting my Enchantix powers. But if there is any way I can become strong enough, or brave enough to beat him, I’ll do whatever it takes.” She blinked, screwing up her eyes as they emerged into the midday sunlight, and shuddered upon seeing the crack in the ground Maya had saved her from falling into.

Maya surveyed the crack, her expression unreadable. In the daylight, her long braided hair shone white, and the sunlight glanced off her high cheekbones and sinewy muscles. “You are already strong and brave,” she said, tearing her eyes away from the gash in the earth to stare unblinkingly at Cosette. “And your magic is very powerful. Your anger is great, but so is your positive energy. If you’d like, I can help you.”

Cosette nodded rapidly. “Yes, please. I think I could really use some guidance.”

Maya pressed a finger to the point on Cosette’s collarbone where, until recently, her Charmix had sat. “You must learn to focus equally on the magic you can produce, and the magic that resides inside you,” she said softly. “You already have everything you need; you just need to learn how to use it.”

 

* * *

 

Omega hadn’t looked pleasant, even from the surface, but when they made it into the maze of ice that made up the entire planet, the Amis realised it was so much worse. As Grantaire carefully guided the ship through an ice cavern, he thanked the Dragon that he, Combeferre and Feuilly had thought to wear their winter uniforms. Indeed, the Faeries were hurriedly pulling on fur-lined cloaks, while Aerora tightened her scarf and reached for her own black cloak, clicking her fingers so it was instantly lined with fur.

“Let’s try to find Courfeyrac as soon as possible,” Combeferre murmured, pulling his hood up. Feuilly hurried to set up an odd square device on the navigation panel, pulling off his gloves with a shiver.

“Pass us the coordinates,” he muttered, and Combeferre handed over the USB, which Feuilly hurried to plug into the device. “OK, we’ll be able to find Courfeyrac’s exact location as soon as the mobile receiver finishes downloading the data.”

“Don’t worry, Ferre,” Grantaire said softly. “This is what we’ve been training for. We’ll find Courf, and we’ll bring him home.”

 

* * *

 

“The spell I’m going to teach you is one of the most difficult ever created,” Maya warned. “Not done correctly, it can be disastrous for the caster.”

“How disastrous?”

“Deadly.” Cosette’s worry must have shown on her face, because Maya added, “Of course, I would not teach you if I did not have faith that you can pull it off. While exceedingly dangerous for normal Faeries, your Dragon Flame is one of the Great Powers of the Magic Dimension and will make it marginally safer for you to attempt. It has protective properties that increase your chances of survival.”

Cosette nodded to show that she understood. “What is the spell?”

“It is a spell that, done correctly, should allow your soul to briefly leave your body. You will be able to hit targets more accurately, as you can touch them with your soul, which, without a body, can travel anywhere. Even into another being’s consciousness, where you will be able to interact with _their_ soul.”

“What happens if I get it wrong?”

Maya’s wizened face briefly contorted, almost as if she had experienced pain from the mere thought of the consequences. “There are many things that could go wrong. Your soul may not be able to return to your body. If you enter someone else’s consciousness, you risk their soul harming or even destroying your soul.”

“Could that work the other way too?” Maya tilted her head to one side, and Cosette elaborated. “Like, could I destroy someone else’s soul if I entered their consciousness?”

Maya nodded. “You could, although it had never been attempted. Souls are volatile things. If someone were to destroy your soul outside of your body, your body would simply remain in the state it was in when you left it - but a body without a soul is, essentially, a corpse. You are dead without your soul. However, if a soul is destroyed inside its _own_ body, it will most likely take the body with it. Your soul risks being destroyed along with the body - although, if something is simply a risk, there is always a chance it will not happen. Should you survive, I believe that your soul would hurry to return to your own body as quickly as possible.” Cosette nodded.

“How do I begin?” She would take any risk to make sure that Tholomyès would never repeat the spell that had killed Fantine on anyone else.

“Empty your mind,” Maya instructed. “Meditation is normally the best way to go about this, but in high stress situations, it is often impossible to meditate, so I would suggest you practise whenever you can.”

 

* * *

 

“I f-f-found the s-s-signal!” Feuilly managed through chattering teeth. Grantaire had had to move most of the ship’s energy towards the engines to keep them from freezing over, so the inside of the ship was nowhere near as toasty as it had been a half-hour ago – to the point where Aerora had conjured up gloves and boots for the Faeries. Feuilly pressed a final button on the touch screen and hurried to pull his fleece-lined gloves back on. The map on the navigation panel lit up, and a single green dot appeared. “It’s identical to the one Combeferre picked up at Corinthe. It’s got to be him. Head due north, Grantaire.”

Combeferre was practically jiggling with excitement by the time they landed. “If this thing is right, which it definitely is, Courfeyrac should only be about twenty metres away from us!” Aerora’s breath hitched, and Enjolras noticed her green eyes widening, gleaming with hope. Grantaire unlocked the ship’s doors, and they hurried out into the frozen landscape.

“Dragon above, it’s freezing,” Enjolras muttered, pulling his cloak tighter around himself. Grantaire stopped short next to him, staring about eight feet above their heads.

“I’m guessing _he_ agrees,” he murmured, and Enjolras followed his gaze up to where a humanoid body with a crocodilian head and empty black eyes was encased in the thick ice of the wall. “Hate to think what that guy did to end up in here.”

“Omega is ‘split’ into three sections,” Aerora said quietly. “The beasts, the beings, and the entities. We’re deep enough that he was most likely considered a being rather than a beast… so whatever he did, it was by choice rather than by nature.” Everyone shivered, and they hurried forward, Combeferre having removed the mobile receiver from the ship’s navigation panel and listening carefully to how loud the beeps were getting.

“They’re more frequent now,” he explained, positively vibrating. “Courf should be right around this corner!” At that news, everyone sped up and rounded the corner of the ice maze, Combeferre in the lead, but suddenly he skidded to a halt. “I don’t get it,” he mumbled. “He should be right here…”

“I think he _was_ right here,” Feuilly murmured, bending down to examine something on the ground, “but something made him leave in a hurry.” He stood up and turned to them, showing the Amis what he’d found: a very battered, frost-encrusted, obviously homemade radio transmission device. The frantic beeps of the mobile receiver seemed to agree with him.

 

* * *

 

 _Emptying your mind,_ Cosette thought, _is harder than it sounds_. She sat still as can be on the ground, eyes closed, trying not to let her mind wander. _Tranquillity… emptiness… blankness… nothingness…_

“Your mind buzzes like an angry wasp,” Maya murmured. “Perhaps total emptiness won’t work for you… try this instead: focussing on the single purpose you wish to achieve by leaving your body behind. In this case, I have conjured a magical target at the centre of this rock. Menial and useless in the real world, I know, but if you focus on leaving your body behind because you cannot reach the target physically…”

 _Rock… right._ Cosette exhaled slowly. _I need to reach that target… nothing but reaching that target matters right now…_

_I’m flying._

Cosette blinked in surprise. Below her, her own body – which suddenly looked a hundred times larger – keeled backwards like a marionette whose strings had been cut. A giant Maya sat a few metres away from her, next to an enormous boulder that sparkled in the way an object does when it has been enchanted. She looked down at herself, but to her surprise, all she could see were tiny flickers of pure white flame!

Cosette laughed in realisation. She’d done it! She had left her body behind and become pure soul. Now, to hit that target…

Twisting through the air and slipping into the boulder was oddly sensationless. She thought her way forward through layers of dark rock until she reached Maya’s bronze light at the centre. _But how to touch it?_ Without arms, there really only seemed to be one option: Cosette willed herself to move closer until she was at the centre of the light. A moment later, it fizzled out around her, and she hurried back out of the boulder. It was oddly disturbing to see her body lying there motionless like that, and she hurried towards her own chest to re-enter. Seconds later, she blinked and sat up panting – a little winded, but mostly amazed.

“Wow,” she murmured.

Maya smiled warmly. “Excellent work. Your skills have improved so much in such a short time. Few could have managed that as quickly as you did. It is one thing to have strong magical ability, but to have the strength to control your own soul is another thing entirely. And to learn how to master both is impressive. I have little doubt that one day, you may even manage both at once.”

“You really think so? That sounds impossible.”

“Don’t doubt yourself,” Maya said firmly. “Believing is the first step to achieving. There is even a planet somewhere where nothing is impossible unless someone tells you it is.” Her smile widened. “I believe you are almost ready to return to Musain.”

 

* * *

 

“This place is like a maze,” Combeferre mumbled. “It’s going to be way harder than I thought to find Courf.”

Next to him, Grantaire froze, his eyes narrowing at something on the ledge above them. “I don’t know about that,” he said quietly. “It seems it was easy enough for _them_ to find _us.”_

The Amis followed his gaze up towards the top of the ledge, freezing in horror when they saw the people staring back.

The criminals of the Omega Dimension – the ones who had escaped their ice prisons but not the planet.

Wrapped in fur cloaks with masks covering their lower faces, they all carried makeshift weapons made from bone and ice, and most wore rags beneath their cloaks. But what made them truly terrifying were the eyes – all cold and glittering with malice.

“They put the transmitter here as a trap,” Aerora whispered, her face paling rapidly. One of the criminals stepped forwards, eyes narrowing.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in the Omega Dimension?” he hissed. “You do realise this is one big frozen prison?” The criminals around him let out hoarse grunts, and the Amis realised it was laughter.

“We’re trying to find the boy who had this transmitter,” Combeferre said coldly, holding up the device. “Tell us what you did with him.”

Three of the criminals, including the leader, jumped down from the ledge, their eyes now filled with anger next to their malice. The leader pulled a broken sword out of his belt – but ‘broken’ by no means meant ‘less lethal’; it was the end of the sword that had broken off, leaving it dangerously jagged. He swung it wildly towards Combeferre, but found it parried by a greenish broadsword made of water.

“Easy, dude,” Grantaire said, his taut muscles and set jaw contradicting his mild tone. “Why can’t we all just get along?”

The second criminal dashed for Feuilly, who sprung into the air and over his head, twisting around and using tendrils of sunlight to pull the man off his feet. Meanwhile, Combeferre hurried to form an air sword, and Enjolras cracked his knuckles.

“Guys, transform! Amis Enchantix!”

The four Enchantix Faeries were transformed in a second; meanwhile Aerora rolled her shoulders back.

“Aerora Technix!”

With a golden flash, she wore a long violet dress and boots, with golden armour on her thighs, wrists and biceps. Her shoulder-length hair grew to her mid-back, with golden tendrils twisting amongst the dark brown, and her wings were some of the coolest any of the Amis had ever seen: they glittered violet and gold, and flickered almost like pixels on a screen, staying in a basic wing shape, but constantly changing in height and width.

Éponine fluttered up to be on the same level as the rest of the criminals, shouting “Sound Wave Attack!” and knocking several backwards.

“This place needs a little sunlight,” Enjolras added, zooming around behind them. “Sunbeam Shower!” Bolts of enchanted sunlight shot in every direction, seemingly coming from his core rather than his hands, and several of the criminals, unadjusted to bright light, screeched and shielded their eyes. Some, unfortunately, had seemingly not forgotten how to use magic, and raised their hands, sending bright bolts of light at Enjolras. Éponine, Jehan and Musichetta hurried to fly over to him and form shields, and Musichetta flung several bolts of Morphix at the criminals’ feet, managing to stick a few to the ice – but the criminals were by no means done.

To give you a better idea of what happened next, I will briefly pause to describe the geography of the area. The Amis had found Courfeyrac’s transmitter on a ledge connected to a tunnel, with another ledge about ten feet above it. The reason I describe them as both ledges and not as a tunnel with a small cliff in the middle of it, is because on one side there was a wall made of ice, and on the other, a deep chasm. The chasm wasn’t wide, but it was certainly wide enough for a person to fall down, and deep enough that they would not be able to climb back out.

The criminals knew this, and acted accordingly. Three of them used their powers to fling large chunks of ice at the four Faeries, who were rapidly tiring from the cold. The first chunk hit Jehan. The second hit Éponine. The third hit Musichetta, who crashed into Enjolras, and all four Faeries hit the icy wall behind them, before tumbling down, down, down into the dark chasm.

“NOOOOO!” Grantaire screamed, and swung his sword at the leader, knocking the sword clean out of his hand. Next to him, Feuilly raised his hands, summoning multiple sunlight strings and slashing them through the air like whips, knocking five criminals off their feet.

“You will pay for hurting them,” he said coldly, before swinging an uppercut into the face of a sixth. Combeferre was busy fending off a criminal clutching a sword carved from the ice, while Aerora blasted multiple curses at every convict who approached her. She turned to face any who had sneaked up behind her, but instead her eyes widened as she caught sight of two of them on the upper ledge – for they had rolled a gigantic ball of ice over, clearly intending to push it down on top of the three boys. As they shoved it over the edge, Aerora leapt into the air and launched herself at the Wizards, who had gathered into a group to fight back-to-back.

“LOOK OUT!” she yelled, forcibly shoving them out of the way.

The next thing Aerora knew was an agonising crushing pain in her legs. The Wizards all looked horrified as they hurried back to her, and, unable to speak, she shook her head desperately, knowing that by returning to help her, they were putting themselves at risk. They paid no attention to her; instead, Combeferre grabbed her arms, preparing to pull, while Grantaire and Feuilly shoved at the ball of ice.

The last thing Aerora saw before her world went black was three of the criminals approaching the boys from behind, raising carved ice clubs into the air.

 

* * *

 

“Twilight,” Maya said softly, as the sun sank behind the volcano in the distance, “is the perfect time to experience life’s most magical moments. I have something for you.” She clapped her hands, and a tiny clay box appeared in her palm. Maya pressed the miniscule lock, and it sprung open, revealing a delicate blue bottle with a cork in it. “This vial contains the essence of Pyros itself.” She lifted it out of the box, and Cosette saw that it was attached to a dark blue cord so it could be worn as a necklace.

“The… magical essence of Pyros?” she repeated, almost entranced by the way the bottle glittered in the sunset.

“Indeed,” Maya smiled. “Every place has its own magical essence – and not just every place, Cosette, but every _one.”_ She lifted the bottle over Cosette’s head so it hung around her neck. “And that means you.”

The bottle hung right where her Charmix had sat, and for the first time since losing it, Cosette felt a little more whole. She let out a breathless giggle, reaching up to feel the smooth surface. Even only touching it with one finger, she could feel something wild within it.

“You see, Cosette,” Maya continued, “like Pyros, you too are defined by a particular blend of magic – one that lies deep inside of you. In order to strengthen that blend, your essence and the essence of Pyros need to come together and work as one.”

“You’re saying I have to blend my essence with the essence of Pyros?” Cosette murmured. “That sounds intense.”

“It will help and guide you,” Maya explained. “It’s up to you to become one with the island’s power.”

 

* * *

 

A small volcanic island covered in jungle, floating in the middle of nowhere. Of course Cosette had picked the most ridiculous, unsanitary, dragon-y place for them to get rid of her.

“We’ve been flying over this stupid island all day,” Gueulemer growled. “Are you sure Cosette’s even here?”

“I’m sure,” Babet said testily. “We’ll find her soon.” Claquesous abruptly stopped in mid-air in front of him, and Babet screeched to a halt to avoid bumping into her. “What’s your damage, Claq?”

Claquesous’ eyes were narrowed. “She’s close. I can feel it.” She pointed at the dark cliffs that rose up at the opposite end of the island from the volcano. “Over there.”

 

* * *

 

“Are you ready, Cosette?”

“I am.”

Maya closed her eyes, and Cosette copied her, focussing on nothing but the goal of blending her own essence with the magic in the bottle around her neck. She felt her feet leave the ground, and hot energy pulsed through her fingertips, travelling up her arms and down her legs and into her head, but centring on the little bottle over her heart. The waves of energy pulsed all around her, and she saw golden sparks erupting behind her eyelids, and in her mind, saw two dragons dancing around each other, one large and dinosaur-like, and the other made of pure fire. The dragons circled closed and closer to each other, until with a _bang_ – that nobody but Cosette heard – they collided and vanished.

“Good, Cosette,” Maya murmured, her voice sounding very far away. “You now carry within you the magic of the dragons of Pyros.”

 

* * *

 

“What is going on down there?” Gueulemer muttered. Cosette was floating a few feet above the ground, but her wings were motionless, and even from where the three Witches were hovering, they could feel the energy rolling off her.

“Who cares?” Babet said, not bothering to keep his voice down. “Cosette!”

Cosette’s eyes opened, and she turned to face them as they dived towards her, her face twisting into a fiery glare. “Sorry,” she snarled, “no tourists allowed on Pyros.” She raised her hands, summoning an enormous ball of fire, and with an inhuman roar, sent it spinning towards them. Unprepared for the intensity of her spell, all three Witches were knocked out of the air. Babet scrambled to his feet, sending a blast of frost towards Cosette that she easily dodged. It hit a tree instead, and Cosette chuckled. “Guess you don’t have much of a green thumb, Babs.”

“Behind you, Cosette!” Maya called, and Cosette turned, managing to only just dodge two blasts of cursed lightning from Gueulemer. Unfortunately, the third one hit her, and at the same time Babet released another ice bolt. As Cosette reeled from the stinging lightning, the ice bolt hit her dead on, sealing her into a block of ice. Babet cackled, moving to stand back and gloat, but within seconds, the ice cracked and went flying, leaving Cosette fluttering a foot off the ground with an enraged expression.

“Cosette’s gotten a lot stronger,” Claquesous commented with a frown. Babet shrugged.

“So what? The tougher she is, the more fun we’ll have destroying her.”

“Oh, really?” Cosette growled. She leapt into the air, Patron-Minette following her. This time, she was prepared, and deflected both lightning and ice with a shield made of pure fire. “You’re not going to destroy anybody!” The flames in her hands warped into a ball, and she flung it at Babet and Gueulemer, knocking them out of the sky.

Claquesous swooped up to take their place, waves of dark energy already pulsing from her hands. Cosette was too slow to dodge it entirely, and it clipped one of her wings, leaving a dark burn on the delicate white membrane. Babet and Gueulemer had recovered, and flew up to join Claquesous, all three Witches wearing the same nasty grin.

“Oh, before we finish you off,” Babet chuckled, “Félix sends his regards.”

_Félix Tholomyès. The man who stole her Charmix. The man who caused Courfeyrac’s death. The man who enslaved the innocent Witches of Votirlu. The man who cursed Marius. The man who blinded Musichetta. The man who turned the Merfolk of Andros into monsters and tried to destroy their planet. The man who robbed dimensions of their powers, their people, their essences. The man who killed Fantine, leaving Domino to be destroyed by the Ancestral Witches._

_Félix Tholomyès, the monster Cosette never wanted to hear about ever again._

The roar that Cosette let out was her most dragon-like yet. The flames engulfing her, and indeed exploding out from her, were also more powerful than anything she could remember producing. Her entire body burned with anger and magic, and she could see golden sparks exploding all round her. Buddy burned more than ever over her heart, and Cosette closed her eyes against the flames, letting them wash over and away from her, knowing without looking that Patron-Minette would be gone when she opened her eyes.

It seemed to go on forever, but at last she felt her feet touch the ground, and saw the light beyond her closed eyelids fade away. Her knees buckled with exhaustion, and she felt Maya place a hand on her forehead.

“My,” Maya chuckled. “I don’t believe I’ve ever witnessed anything quite like that before. I believe you inadvertently transported all three of them straight back to where they came from.”

“They spoke of Tholomyès like he’s done nothing wrong,” Cosette whispered. “Like his fight with me is a joke. I couldn’t take it.”

“No, it seems you couldn’t,” Maya agreed. “Enough to give yourself a new look.”

“Huh?”

Maya pointed Cosette towards the glittering lagoon visible through the trees, and she walked apprehensively over to it to see her reflection.

What she saw made her jaw drop.

Where her hair had previously reached her waist, it was now almost ankle-length, and was pinned back from her face with three tiny blue heart-shaped clips on each side. More blue hearts glittered in her earlobes, and her eyelids and lips were both painted soft pink. The tiny bottle still hung over her heart, but now it sat on her bare skin; instead of her blue top and skirt, she now wore a pale blue dress that shimmered all the colours of the rainbow even in the dim light. Darker blue ribbon straps faded to pink and tied in a bow behind her neck, and pale pink elbow-length gloves covered her arms. Footless sandals twisted around her ankles, held in place with more tiny blue hearts, and her wings stretched out wide behind her, edged in pale blue with the white membrane glittering pink and green.

Although it was a unique look, the style was easily recognisable to Cosette, who let out a soft gasp.

“I… I did it,” she whispered. “I’m an Enchantix! I can’t believe it!”

“I can,” Maya said, and Cosette turned to face her. The old woman was smiling widely. “All of your energy was perfectly focussed for one perfect moment, as was your determination to stop Tholomyès before he hurts anyone else. That’s what set your Enchantix powers free. Only someone truly born of two Dragons could have achieved it. When you first arrived here, you were looking for strength or courage. You found both, but more than that, you found yourself.” She paused, placing a hand on Cosette’s shoulder. “I believe that now you are ready to return to Musain – and face Tholomyès.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: Chapter 17 probably won't be tonight; I have two new jobs (YAY!) which means I have less time to write, and I've been simultaneously hit with the cold so I feel horrible. It might be tomorrow or Thursday hopefully, but I'm tempted to take a short hiatus.  
> Love yous!


	17. In Which Loose Ends Are Tied Up - Mostly...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cosette has returned from Pyros, but heads straight for the Omega Dimension when she discovers the possibility that Courfeyrac is alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I took a two week hiatus. I just didn't have the energy to write, except for a small drabble I posted on Tumblr. I have a lot of difficulties with my mental health, mainly because my brain is mean to me without just cause, not to mention there was a lot of mixups with my job. Although, the good news is I have a Sunday job teaching a kids' drama class, which is awesome!
> 
> I'm back at the writing now, although if anyone is reading mArinette, don't hold your breath for an update as a lot of the themes have affected me personally and when I'm in a slump it's especially hard to write about those.
> 
> Enjoy Chapter 17!!

As the sun rose over Musain, Cosette paused to shake a stone out of her shoe. “Good morning, Musain,” she murmured. It was super early, maybe half-four in the morning, so the school almost seemed deserted. With a weary smile, the blonde headed up to her dorm room and pushed open the door, slipping in silently.

“Jehan?” she called quietly, slipping into their shared bedroom. “You here?”

The room was empty; the beds both perfectly made and clearly un-slept in.

“Jehan?” Cosette called again. Still nothing. Frowning, she left the dorm room and headed over to the room shared by Éponine and Musichetta, but it was empty too.

Cosette headed back to her own room and collapsed onto her bed. While it was wonderful to lie on a soft mattress again, she couldn’t fully appreciate it, too worried about the emptiness of the apartment.

“Where is everyone?” she murmured sadly.

“I’m here, Cosette!” someone squeaked, and Cosette sat up to see Juliette and the other Piskies zooming towards her. There was a squeak from next to her, and she glanced down to see a sleepy Wolter struggling onto the bed. Wolter hopped into her lap just as the Piskies landed on top of her – Roselyne and Manon on her shoulders, Simone and Lise on her head, Abby on her knee, and Juliette in her lap next to Wolter.

“We’ve been so worried about you, Cosette,” Roselyne told her. Cosette petted Wolter’s ears, already feeling calmer.

“I missed all of you like crazy,” she admitted. “Where is everyone?”

“While you were on Pyros,” Abby said quietly, “Combeferre created a device to track down Courfeyrac. They’ve gone to rescue him.”

Cosette’s jaw dropped.

“You mean he’s –?”

Abby shivered. “They said he was, but they were supposed to be back last night. It’s been way too long. We’re worried.”

Cosette frowned, getting up from the bed and giving Wolter one last scratch behind the neck before heading for the door. She opened it just as Javert made to knock on the other side.

“Ah, Miss Valjean, you’re back. Headmaster Myriel’s been expecting you.”

 

* * *

 

Indeed, Myriel was sitting behind his desk, dressed as smartly as ever in spite of the early hour. “Good to see you back, Cosette,” he smiled.

“Yeah… I’m back,” Cosette said awkwardly. “And… I kind of wanted to ask if I could leave again.”

“So you’ve heard about your friends’ mission to the Omega Dimension,” Myriel nodded. “Naturally you wish to help them.” He smiled. “I believe they would be most glad of your help, so of course you can go – especially since Maya, the Elder of Pyros and an old friend of mine, informed me of how much you have grown. I am very proud of you.”

“Thanks, sir,” Cosette smiled. “I was able to strengthen my powers so much, and I really got in touch with my inner self too… but…”

“There’s always a ‘but’,” Myriel mused.

“How was I able to earn my Enchantix powers without saving anyone from my world? Maya tried to explain it, but I’m not sure I understood her…”

“Cosette,” Myriel interrupted her, “you are an exceptional Faery – quite the phenomenon. I’m not surprised in the least. It was sheer will power alone that transformed you. As I’m sure Maya told you, only someone truly born of the Dragon Flame could have done it.”

Cosette was silent for a moment, staring at her hands in amazement, before she spoke up again. “So about that leaving to help find Courfeyrac –”

She was interrupted by the whirring of an engine from outside, and she and Myriel turned to the window to see a Corinthe Owl airship hovering above the courtyard, clearly preparing to land.

“Go,” Myriel smiled, and Cosette raced out of the room and out to the courtyard. The wind from the engines made her hair whip around her face like a golden halo, and she squinted up at the scarlet vehicle. As the ship landed and the pilot disembarked, Cosette’s eyes widened and her breath caught in her throat. It was the last person she’d been expecting to see, and she voiced his name with trepidation.

“Marius.”

Prince Marius gazed back at her with worried hazel eyes. “Hi, Cosette.”

Cosette smiled nervously. She could feel her heart in her throat. “I’m, uh, I’m glad to see that you’re OK.” Her voice was barely louder than a whisper.

Marius nodded. “I’m completely back to my regular self now. Céleste’s spell is totally gone.” Cosette slowly nodded, and Marius made an awkward gesture with his right arm, as if he wanted to reach out and touch her, but had stopped himself at the last minute. “Cosette,” his voice was as hoarse as hers was. “I am so, _so_ sorry for how I treated you when I was under that spell. I broke your heart, and I can never apologise enough for that. You deserve someone so much better than me. I completely understand if you never want to see me again, I just had to let you know that -”

Cosette softly placed her index finger against his lips. “Sssshhhh,” she smiled. She could feel her eyes welling up. “It wasn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologise.”

Marius took her hand and kissed the back of it softly. “I know, but I still hurt you, and I’m so sorry for that.”

“That was Céleste’s plan,” Cosette reminded him. “She teamed up with Tholomyès. It benefited both of them; Céleste got you, and my emotions negatively affected my powers.” She could feel the tears sliding down her face. “Marius, I… I was so scared that I had lost you forever. Not just your love, but you. I… can’t lose you. Even if you don’t love me any more, I can’t lose you.” She screwed up her eyes against the tears, her shoulders shaking. Too many emotions for one day.

The next thing Cosette felt was a hand carefully wiping the tears off her face, before Marius wrapped his arms around her waist. She pressed her face against his chest, and nearly melted when he kissed the top of her head. “Cosette,” Marius whispered into her hair, “you are never going to lose me again. I promise. I love you, and I’ll always love you, and nothing can change that.”

“I love you too,” Cosette hiccupped. She blinked tearfully up at Marius, and smiled shakily. “I love you so much.”

Neither of them was sure who leaned in first, but the next thing they knew, they were kissing fiercely, and time seemed to slow. Cosette could feel a spreading warmth in her chest, and her heart felt the lightest she could remember. She pressed closer to Marius, who held her tighter.

 

* * *

 

“Bahorel and I stayed behind at Corinthe to help protect the school from attacks by Tholomyès,” Marius explained. They were sitting on a bench in the courtyard, just enjoying being close to each other for a moment. “But when I heard you were back, I asked Lamarque for special permission to leave and see you.”

“And he’s such a sensitive soul, he gave it to you,” Cosette joked. “Hey, how did you know I was back?”

Marius chuckled, blushing a little. “That would be thanks to… another sensitive soul.”

Cosette didn’t have time to wonder what he meant by that before a familiar voice piped out of the bushes behind them, “It was me!” They turned to see Juliette beaming at them, and immediately sprung apart in embarrassment. “You two are just the sweetest pair I’ve ever seen!”

“Juliette!” Simone popped her head out of the bush next to her. “We weren’t supposed to let them know we were here!”

“I couldn’t help it,” Juliette said defensively. “Sometimes a Piskie deserves a little credit!”

“Oh, now look at them!” Manon tutted, popping up on Juliette’s other side. “You’ve made them blush!”

Abby climbed out of the bush next to Manon and fluttered over to sit between them. “So, about this Omega Mission –” she started.

“You’re not going,” Cosette, Marius and the Piskies chorused. Abby pouted and folded her chubby little arms.

“But you can’t go all be yourself, Cosette! It’s dangerous!”

“I won’t be by myself,” Cosette assured her. “Marius will be with me.”

Marius nodded, smiling lovingly at her, and Cosette knew what he was thinking, for she was thinking it too: _I’ll always be with you, by your side, through whatever the Universe throws at us._

 

* * *

 

“We need to get out of here,” Grantaire muttered, scowling at the ice that sealed him, Combeferre and Feuilly into the tiny cave the escaped prisoners had been using as a containment cell. “Aerora is seriously injured; she’ll need medical help sooner or later – not to mention, Enj, Jehan, Ponine and Chetta are stuck in a gorge Dragon knows how deep.”

“It won’t be easy,” Feuilly murmured. “Those thugs haven’t left us alone in here for longer than five minutes. Without anything to blast it open, there’s no way we’re getting through that ice.”

“Not to mention,” Combeferre added, “all the water in this cell is frozen solid, there’s barely any light, and the air quality is terrible. We’re weaponless and surrounded by ruthless criminals who’ve turned Omega into their own personal kingdom.”

“Like I said,” Grantaire sighed, “we’ve got to get out of here… I really hope everyone else is OK.”

 

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Enjolras, Jehan, Éponine and Musichetta weren’t faring much better than the Wizards. Untransformed, they would have frozen to death by now, but as it was, Jehan, Éponine and Musichetta found themselves in the early stages of hypothermia. Enjolras’ sun powers and naturally higher internal body heat were keeping him just above the threshold temperature, and he’d been able to conjure a sunlight bubble to keep the four of them from freezing to the floor, but he was weakening quickly, and another problem had quickly presented itself: a seventy-foot-long snake with a head the size of a small car and scales made of pure ice, curled up about thirty feet away from them and watching them with unblinking black eyes.

_Stay back,_ Enjolras told the snake, inside his head. _I won’t… let you hurt my friends. No matter what… I’ll find a way to keep you out and keep us warm…_

_It hurts… so badly…_

_I’m… so… tired…_

 

* * *

 

As the Owl flew lower into Omega’s atmosphere, Cosette tightened the jacket of her snowsuit. “This place is seriously creepy,” she murmured.

Marius shuddered. “Tell me about it. This is where the Magic Dimension’s worst criminals end up, frozen and forgotten.”

“With no chance of escape?”

“No chance. Let’s prepare for landing.”

As it turned out, the atmosphere had actually been the least creepy part of the dimension. They had managed to find a canyon that led down past hundreds of icy tunnels branching off in different directions, and landed at the bottom of it, Marius having remembered Combeferre’s device indicating that Courfeyrac was most likely deep within the planet’s frozen bowels. There was only one direction to move once they were off the ship, so Cosette and Marius attached crampons to their boots and started forward.

It seemed the dimension went deeper than they’d thought. They were only about a hundred feet into the tunnel when the path narrowed into a slim walkway over a seemingly bottomless crevice. On instinct, Cosette dropped down to crawl across the bridge, and Marius copied her.

“It seems like it’s getting colder by the minute,” Cosette shivered about halfway across.

“The Omega D-d-dimension is said to have a heart of…i-i-ice,” Marius said through chattering teeth. “The d-d-deeper you go, the faster you f-f-freeze.”

An eerie hiss echoed up to them from the chasm beneath the bridge, and the two exchanged a glance before picking up the pace.

Most unluckily, it was their urgency to leave the bridge that almost led to a tragedy upon it. Not looking where she was putting her foot, Cosette slipped on the edge of the ice and nearly lost her hold on the ground – and indeed, would have fallen into the crack had Marius not grabbed her by the arms and pulled her back onto the bridge. They paused for a moment, breathing deeply, unable to compute what had nearly occurred, before carefully moving forwards to where the path joined the walls again.

Standing up, they continued forward, but paused as the path made a sharp right turn. Marius raised his hands, concentrating heavily, and managed to form a boomerang made of blue flames – although Cosette could see he was struggling from the lack of heat, and the boomerang was flickering like a fire that was nearly out.

“Someone might be waiting for us,” he explained quietly. “If they are, I might be able to catch them off guard.” Cosette nodded, and Marius threw the boomerang around the corner before pressing against the wall, out of sight.

There was a bang and a flash of green light, interspersed with blue sparks that told them the boomerang had been blown to pieces. Marius and Cosette exchanged a worried glance at the clear sign of life, but before they could turn back the way they’d come, an angry voice rang out.

“Try that again, and I’ll kill you.”

Marius froze, panicking, but Cosette’s face was one of disbelief. “I know that voice,” she murmured, moving to turn the corner. Marius jumped to try and pull her back, but Cosette was already moving towards their attacker with single-minded determination.

“Seriously,” the voice continued, “I don’t know what you want, but you’d better –” They cut off abruptly, and Marius rushed after Cosette, who was staring at the person with wide eyes.

The person stared back at them. They weren’t much taller than Cosette – in fact, the two were probably about the same height – and they were clad in a thick black fur cloak. Their head was wrapped in strips of linen, except for their mouth and glittering green eyes.

“Cosette?” the person whispered. “Is it – is it really you?”

“I can’t believe it,” Cosette choked out, feeling her tears freeze to her face and impatiently brushing them away with her glove. “You’re really alive.” She held out her arms for a hug, and the person rushed towards her, pulling off their mask – and Marius’ jaw dropped as he recognised the freckled cheeks and dark brown curls belonging to Courfeyrac.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” Courfeyrac whispered. His eyes were welling up with tears that froze the second they touched his cheeks. “I’ve been so scared here.” Cosette tightened her arms around him, and the two Faeries quietly cried in each other’s arms.

 

* * *

 

“So, how did you survive here?” Marius asked curiously, once Courfeyrac and Cosette had managed to stop crying. To his surprise, Courfeyrac chuckled.

“I don’t know if you heard this part of the story, but when I forced the Omega portal shut, I gained my Enchantix powers. That, combined with my own knowledge of basic survival skills, helped me survive. There’s no food down here, so I rebooted my own system. Now only a few of my most important programmes are running: my brain, eyes, larynx, lungs, muscles and kidneys. I put an antifreeze spell on my blood, and I’ve been using the ice for water. I don’t think I could have survived without my new powers. Luckily, this planet is full of techno-waste, so I managed to make a transmitter.”

“Which is how you were able to contact Combeferre!” Marius nodded, but Cosette frowned.

“How come the others didn’t find you then?”

Courfeyrac scowled. “They would have, but the escapees don’t want me here.”

“Escapees?” Cosette said nervously.

Courfeyrac nodded grimly. “The criminals who broke out of their ice prisons but didn’t manage to reach the portal before I sealed it. I had to leave the transmitter behind to escape from them; if Combeferre was looking for the transmitter signal, it would have led him to an ambush point to the north of here.”

Cosette and Marius exchanged horrified looks. “But that’s exactly what he and the others did,” Marius gasped. “They could be in serious trouble!”

“Then we’ve got to find them,” Courfeyrac said firmly. “The group that attacked me has been using a series of shallow caves as a base. They don’t stray far from it; we can use that against them.”

 

* * *

 

Indeed, the cave system was not at all far from where Courfeyrac had been hiding out, and they silently observed the entrance for a moment before deciding on a game plan; Marius would take out the guard and keep a look-out while the two Faeries headed into the caves to search for any sign of the other Amis.

A quick shot from his boomerang sent the guard to investigate, while a second shot knocked him clean out. Two more guards hurried out to see what the disturbance was; the boomerang knocked out one with a clean shot to the head, but jammed into the icy wall above the second. The guard chuckled wickedly at Marius, a nasty grin forming on his face. “You missed, little boy.”

“Did I?” Marius replied coolly. The escapee looked up at the boomerang just in time for a large chunk of the wall to come crashing down from where the blue flames had melted it. “Sweet dreams, buddy.”

Meanwhile, Courfeyrac led Cosette into the cave, sticking near to the wall but not so close he risked freezing to it. They were deep enough in that the light from the main cavern couldn’t reach them when Courfeyrac suddenly threw out a hand to stop Cosette, standing stock-still. “There are two more guards just ahead of us,” he whispered, and Cosette squinted, managing to make out their silhouettes as her eyes adjusted to the gloom. “Stay right there.” Before Cosette could even think about asking for his plan, he muttered, “Courfeyrac Enchantix!” and transformed in an explosion of purple, blue and green light.

“Stay back!” one of the guards screeched, flinching from the sudden light, and Courfeyrac chuckled.

“No problem, buddy.” With a blast of green sparks, the first guard was unconscious – but the other was still very much alert.

“Back off, Faery!”

Cosette didn’t see what happened, but she heard a cry of pain, followed by Courfeyrac’s voice shouting, “Let go of me!”

“Try shooting your magic beams now!” the criminal gloated. Cosette stepped forward, feeling her fury pulsing through her body and tingling at her fingertips.

“You heard him,” she said coldly. “Let him GO!”

She didn’t even have to transform or speak an incantation before the magic burst out of her, lighting up the cave to the point where she could no longer see from the brightness of it. She hadn’t had an outburst like this in ages. When the light dimmed again, she could just make out Courfeyrac standing a few feet from her, and the unconscious body of his assailant a few feet from them.

Marius came dashing towards them, holding a handful of blue flames. “I heard the explosion!” he gasped. “Are you guys alright?”

Courfeyrac nodded, rubbing a bruise on his cheek that bore an unpleasant resemblance to the soul of a boot. “Thanks to Cosette’s little outburst,” he chuckled.

“Cosette?” a hoarse voice whispered, and Marius held up his handful of flames, throwing light upon a smaller cave off the main tunnel. Smashed ice glittered on the floor, suggesting Cosette’s spell had smashed through some kind of frozen barrier, and three shocked faces gazed up at them: Grantaire, Feuilly and Combeferre.

Marius wasted no time in yanking Grantaire to his feet and pulling his best friend into a hug; Cosette helped Feuilly to his feet and hugged him too. Combeferre and Courfeyrac, however, simply stood staring at each other for what felt like an eternity, before Combeferre cleared his throat. “As ever, your timing is impeccable,” he chuckled. Courfeyrac let out a breathless laugh, and the two boys embraced tightly.

Cosette beamed at the sight before turning away from the intimate moment and addressing Feuilly. “Are you guys alright?”

“Never better,” Feuilly chuckled, shaking a cramp out of his leg. His face turned serious after a moment though. “Courf’s mom was with us though – she got hurt, she needs medical help.”

“My mom’s here?” Courfeyrac turned to Feuilly with wide eyes. Feuilly nodded.

“They put her in a different cell, we need to find her as quickly as –”

An explosion of purple light and shattered ice interrupted him from further down the tunnel, clearing to reveal Aerora leaning unsteadily against the wall and looking absolutely furious. “You cowards!” she yelled. “Attacking teenagers! I dare you to come at me _without_ a rock of sufficient dimensions to knock me out with! Then you’ll be sorry!”

“Yeah, I don’t think rescuing her is gonna be necessary,” Grantaire muttered. Aerora turned towards him with wild eyes, but her expression turned to one of relief as she recognised him – and then she caught sight of Courfeyrac, and her jaw dropped.

“M-my sweet baby boy,” she whispered. “Is – is it really you?”

Courfeyrac didn’t bother replying; he simply rushed into his mother’s arms and hugged her tightly. Aerora seemed unsure of what to do at first, but slowly a smile made its way onto her face, and she hugged her son back.

 

* * *

 

Outside the cave, the air felt a lot fresher. Combeferre cracked his knuckles before focussing and forming a bright yellow sword. Next to him, Grantaire and Feuilly concentrated for a moment before forming their own respective green and amber swords. Cosette had managed to heal Aerora enough that she could walk, although the sooner she got attention from a doctor, the better. Cosette tapped Marius on the shoulder as he formed his own blue sword.

“Marius – Courfeyrac and I are going to search for Enjolras, Jehan, Éponine and Musichetta.”

Marius nodded, and Grantaire pointed towards the cave wall opposite them. “They were knocked into that gorge – we haven’t seen or heard from them since, so they might be trapped down there. We’d accompany you, but there were way more escaped criminals than just the ones guarding the caves and they’re liable to show up at any second.”

“Gotcha,” Courfeyrac nodded. “We’ll try not to take too long.”

Cosette and Courfeyrac approached the edge of the chasm with apprehension, Courfeyrac getting to his knees before leaning over the edge. “ENJOLRAS!” he shouted. “JEHAN! MUSICHETTA! ÉPONINE!”

Nothing but the echo responded. Courfeyrac got back up. “We need to get down there.”

“Then I should transform too –” Cosette started, but suddenly something big and white erupted out of the canyon with a snarling hiss: an enormous snake with scales made of ice. It thrashed angrily – too close to them, and Cosette felt herself falling down a hole for the third time that week.

 

* * *

 

“Don’t worry… this cold can’t… hurt us…”

“Enjolras,” Musichetta whispered, “you’re completely exhausted. You can’t keep this up much longer.”

Enjolras shook his head. “I… have to. Otherwise… the snake… might come back… and…”

“Enjolras, you can’t risk your life like that,” Jehan said softly. “Don’t worry. You need to rest.”

Enjolras took a deep breath, shuddering a little with the effort. “O… OK.” His eyes fluttered shut, and his head drooped onto Jehan’s shoulder. The light shield around them flickered out.

 

* * *

 

“Cosette! Transform now!”

Cosette clung to the ledge she and Courfeyrac had landed on, nodding. “OK. Cosette Enchant –” The snake swatted her with its tail, sending her screaming back into the abyss of the chasm, and Courfeyrac flew after her.

 

* * *

 

With a wet plop, the snake landed in front of them, and Enjolras forced himself to his feet. “The snake’s… touch… is lethal,” he panted, standing in front of his friends. “I’ll hold it off, you guys fly –”

Both he and the snake were interrupted by the gorge filling with bright green light, and they all looked up to see a green sphere floating down to land in front of them. It vanished as it touched the ground, leaving Courfeyrac carrying an unconscious Cosette bridal-style.

“Courfeyrac?” Éponine whispered. “Cosette?! Where did you two come from?”

“No time for that now,” Courfeyrac said hurriedly, passing Cosette to Musichetta. “Cosette needs help. I’ll distract the snake.” He took off as soon as Musichetta was holding Cosette securely, and Éponine reached for the bottle on her necklace, uncorking it and sprinkling bright pink powder over Cosette. As soon as it touched her, her eyelids flickered, and she groaned quietly as she felt her body healing itself, before Musichetta helped her to stand.

Meanwhile, Courfeyrac was dodging and weaving around the snake’s head. “Electric Storm!” he shouted, sending a blast of green light at the snake. It hit its mark – but the snake only hissed in agitation.

“It didn’t even knock it back!” Jehan gasped. Musichetta narrowed her eyes.

“Then we need to hit it harder.”

“But we have no energy left,” Éponine pointed out.

“We have… to try,” Enjolras said determinedly. He took off towards the snake, and after a moment, Jehan, Éponine and Musichetta followed.

“Luxuriant Ivy!”

“Sound Wave Attack!”

“Morphix Attack!”

“Sunbeam!”

Courfeyrac unleashed another Electric Storm, and the snake hissed angrily as all five spells hit it at once, coiling away from them. The five Faeries landed, and it stared back, untouched.

“Our magic… didn’t do a thing,” Enjolras coughed. He sank to his knees, and Jehan hurried towards him, wrapping their arms around him to try and conserve what little body heat they had left.

Cosette glared up at the snake. “All right,” she murmured. “My turn. Cosette Enchantix!”

Her previous transformations had felt like heat was pulsing through her body, but this felt more like pure magic rolling over her skin. She could feel her friends staring at her with gobsmacked expressions as she flew up towards the snake – which, with her new wings, was suddenly a thousand times easier – and heard Éponine’s amazed shout.

“Cosette! You got your Enchantix!”

“Yeah, I guess I did,” Cosette chuckled. “It’s kind of a long story, but right now, let’s see how this guy does against all six of us!”

 

* * *

 

The rest of the thugs were, unfortunately, much better at fighting than Marius had anticipated. Even with Aerora, it was much harder to incapacitate these guys when they were prepared to fight back, and he belatedly remembered that not only were these guys among the most violent criminals in history, but they also had nothing to lose down here. He and Grantaire found themselves cornered back to back, and hurried to switch positions to take out the others’ assailant, pausing to take a breath before diving back into the battle.

 

* * *

 

The six Faeries reached for their pendants, removing them from their necklaces and sprinkling Faery Dust into the air – only this time, Cosette’s gold mixed with Musichetta’s lilac, Enjolras’ silver, Jehan’s mint, Éponine’s pink and Courfeyrac’s neon green. “Ring of Faery Dust!” they chanted. The rainbow of Dust swirled around the serpent, forming a muzzle around its jaws. Meanwhile, Cosette fluttered back, sizing up the serpent for the best place to aim. She noticed a small divot in its stomach scales where the white ice abruptly turned to blue, and knew she’d found the weak spot.

“Everyone get back,” she shouted. “I’m going to give it everything I’ve got!”

Her friends moved back against the wall of the canyon, and Cosette dive-bombed the snake, closing her eyes and focussing heavily on it. She could feel her golden dragon forming around her, and pulled up just short of hitting the snake, the dragon continuing on. “DRAGON ENERGY!” she screamed. The dragon hit the snake, and the gorge filled with golden sparks before plunging into darkness. Cosette felt herself falling towards the ground, hearing whispers filling her head, unable to make them out until a second before they vanished. Her eyes snapped open as she understood, just a second before she landed hard on the ground.

“Cosette!” she heard Enjolras whisper, seconds before a ball of light flickered into existence in his hands and he reached out to help her up. “Are you OK?”

Cosette nodded shakily. “I… I think so.” She got to her feet, frowning as Enjolras lifted the ball of light over the snake’s silent, unmoving body.

“It’s quiet,” he whispered. “I… I think it’s over.”

“We got it?” Éponine asked, squinting at the snake. “We got it!”

Cosette shook her head, frowning, even as her friends cheered wildly. “No, it’s not over.”

Musichetta frowned worriedly. “What do you mean, it’s not over? That snake is toast!”

“No, it’s not,” Cosette whispered. “When my dragon made contact with the snake, it was like for a few seconds we were connected – like an intense psychic link, and it spoke to me!”

“What did it say?” Jehan said uneasily.

“The White Snake is the very essence of this dimension,” Cosette murmured, “its heart and main guardian. From its breath flows the very ice that covers the entire planet.” Behind her, the snake’s eyes snapped open. “Without it, the Omega Dimension doesn’t exist.”

“So,” Enjolras said uneasily, “if we haven’t defeated it, then…” He raised the ball of light high enough to illuminate the snake’s furious face staring down at them as it towered above them.

“FLY!” Cosette screamed.

The six Faeries took off upwards, the snake in hot pursuit. “It’s _really_ angry now!” Éponine whimpered.

“And really fast!” Courfeyrac added. “It’s catching up to us!” He beat his wings as hard as he could, but to his horror, Cosette had slowed to a stop and was hovering beneath them, staring the snake down.

“I have a plan!” she called up to them. “You guys go ahead, find the Wizards and help them!”

“Cosette, are you nuts?” Jehan shouted. “We can’t leave you here with that thing!”

“Trust me!” Cosette called, her voice getting quieter as they moved higher. “I know what I’m doing! This might be our only chance, GO!”

 

* * *

 

“This isn’t looking good,” Grantaire muttered over his shoulder at Marius. “What do we do now, mate?” They were surrounded on all sides by armed criminals, who were all grinning nastily at them.

“Just keep fighting!” Marius replied, kicking a thug in the chest. “We don’t exactly have much of a choice!”

“Easier said than done,” Grantaire muttered, punching another in the face.

 

* * *

 

“Come on, just a little longer,” Cosette muttered as the snake snapped at her heels. It tried to bring the pursuit to an end by spitting ice at her, and she hurriedly dodged. “Oi! Behave!”

 

* * *

 

Marius, Grantaire, Combeferre, Feuilly and Aerora gathered together, exhausted. Apparently, some of the other roaming groups of criminals had gotten word of their presence on Omega, and had joined the fight, meaning there were now simply too many of them. But suddenly, Grantaire froze, frowning.

“I can hear something in the gorge,” he muttered. “Something big, headed for the surface.”

“Get behind me,” Aerora said. She raised her hands. “Protection Globe!”

A ball of purple light surrounded them just as five blurs of colour burst out of the canyon. Marius had just realised they were Musichetta, Courfeyrac, Éponine, Enjolras and Jehan when Cosette came shooting out after them – with an enormous white snake chasing her! As she shot towards the icy roof, the snake caught site of all the gobsmacked escapees staring up at it, and decided they were far more interesting prey than the Faeries. Blasts of ice issued from its mouth, freezing everyone they hit, and as the remaining criminals dashed into the ice tunnels, the snake slithered after them. The six Faeries landed in front of their friends, and Aerora let the protective bubble vanish.

“I think,” she murmured, “it is high time we went home.”

 

* * *

 

As the Amis hurried on board the two ships, Cosette knelt down to the ground and carefully scraped a few tiny shards of ice into her Faery Dust bottle, as a reminder that the impossible had been proved possible that day. She let her transformation drop, and took the hand Marius was holding out to her, and together they climbed on board. And as the two Owls rose up and flew for the frozen planet’s exit, she looked over at Courfeyrac wrapped in a blanket with Combeferre, and felt properly whole again. She may have her Enchantix powers now, but going home and knowing that the family she’d found was once again complete made her feel warmer than any kind of fire magic ever could.

 

* * *

 

As soon as they landed at Musain, Courfeyrac, Aerora and Enjolras were rushed straight to the infirmary, while the others were told to wait outside for a quick check-up. But, soon enough, the Wizards were free to go back to Corinthe, and while Aerora would need to be transferred to Magix Hospital, Courfeyrac and Enjolras would merely need an overnight stay. Filled with relief that their friends would be OK, Cosette, Jehan, Éponine and Musichetta headed to bed, falling asleep as soon as their heads hit their pillows – except for Cosette, who lay awake, her mind spinning.

While Courfeyrac’s apparent death had been an obvious cause for her personal hatred of Tholomyès, now that her friend was alive and well she had no idea how to explain to the Amis what Tholomyès had told her about her mother. Although Myriel had told her that her father’s identity didn’t make her a monster, there was no guarantee her peers would feel the same.

_Don’t be ridiculous,_ she told herself. _Mes Amis would never abandon me over something like that._ But she couldn’t help but remember the way people had reacted to the mere rumour that she was connected to Tholomyès.

“Cosette?” Jehan’s voice murmured from their bed. “What’s wrong?”

“Jehan?” Cosette replied quietly. “Why – why do you ask?”

“Your mind is all buzzy.”

“It’s nothing,” Cosette sighed. “It’s just…” She came to a decision. “Jehan… what if you found out something about yourself… that made you terrified of what you were capable of, or what might happen because of it?”

Jehan’s voice sounded more alert now. “Did something happen on Pyros?”

“No, it’s…” Cosette paused. “Never mind. Courf’s back, we can worry about it another time. Goodnight, Jehan.”

There was a moment of silence, before Jehan replied, “Goodnight, Cosette,” and the room fell silent once again. But this time, Cosette’s mind wasn’t the only one spinning.


	18. In Which Álainn Saves Musichetta, But Lets Félix Tholomyès Get Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Returned from the Omega Dimension with their found family whole again, the Amis prepare to begin a new level of magical training. However, some unforeseen circumstances put a damper in their plans...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to update. I've probably mentioned in previous updates that I recently started a new job (which I love), so I have a lot less time to write. I'm gonna try and be better at it though - especially because my therapist says it's good for me to keep it regular.
> 
> Also, I just found out that I'm allergic to stress hormones. Which is great. Because it's not like I have a literal chemical imbalance disorder in my brain that makes me stressed all the time. Oh wait.
> 
> If you're reading mArinette, I don't know when it will be updated with the final chapter. It's in progress though.
> 
> Above all, enjoy the latest chapter of The Warlock Of The Flame!

“I think we’re back to normal, now,” Cosette murmured. Courfeyrac and Enjolras had returned from the infirmary that afternoon, and too exhausted to do anything else, the Amis had curled up together on the sofa, squishing in and lying on top of each other to fit all six of them. It was just after nine o’clock now, yet Cosette and Jehan were the only ones still awake. Cosette stroked Enjolras’ long blond hair, which was piled in her lap. “It feels like our family is whole again.”

Jehan nodded in agreement. “It all seemed hopeless for a while,” they said quietly. “But now that we’re together again, we can face down anything.”

“Even Tholomyès.”

“Forget about him for the moment,” Jehan chuckled. “I’m more worried about our new Enchantix training classes with Javert tomorrow.”

“Jeez, it’s just all piling up, isn’t it,” Cosette groaned. “Marius and I have already had to reschedule two dates because of schedule changes. We were set to go out tomorrow evening but had to scrap that because Javert’s probably going to put us through the ringer. I’ll be a living bruise.” She rubbed a still-healing scratch on her arm. “Like I didn’t get beaten up enough on Pyros.”

Jehan giggled. “Why don’t you just call him now?”

“At half-nine at night? Isn’t that a bit late?”

“It’s never too late for love,” Jehan said firmly. “Who knows, maybe he’s thinking of you too.”

Cosette blushed at the thought, wiggling around to try and get her phone out of her pocket without disturbing either Enjolras on her lap or Courfeyrac with his head on her shoulder. She scrolled through her contacts until she found Marius, pressing call, but to her surprise, a message flashed up saying that the number was currently uncontactable as the phone was in restricted airspace.

“Weird,” she murmured. “What could he possibly be doing in restricted airspace at this time of night?”

 

* * *

 

As it turns out, Marius and the rest of the Wizards were doing something very important indeed. Multiple Hawk battleships flew in careful formation towards Votirlu castle. When they were close enough, several Wizards jumped out of each one, using their powers to parachute to the battlements, the path, and the Windswept Terrace. To their surprise, the protective fields around the entrances were all gone – even the ones Tholomyès had put up. There was a crackle on everyone’s wrist communicator, and Combeferre spoke to them from the ship. “Blue Team, Green Team, move now and get into position. Red Team, Yellow Team, wait for a moment so we’re sure the aerial defences are all out, then enter the castle. We want this wrapped up hopefully before midnight.”

Combeferre watched as the teams on the path entered the castle, and a second later the teams on both the battlements and the Terrace entered after them. He waited about ten nerve-wracking minutes with no response, but finally Marius’ voice rang through the on-board speaker.

“Blue Team to Control. We’ve found the Witches.”

Grantaire’s voice followed shortly. “Green Team to Control. No sign of Tholomyès.”

It must have been a quiet night, because it was only two minutes before the Yellow Team replied. “Yellow Team to Control,” Feuilly said, crackling a little. Something roared behind him. “We’re almost done wrapping things up with the transmuted teachers.” There was a second roar, a little further away, and he corrected himself. “We’re done now. They’re subdued and restrained; we don’t know how to turn them human again but they can no longer attack us.”

“Red Team to Control,” Bahorel’s voice came through the speaker, nearly an hour later. “We’ve scoured the prison cells in the attic and the dungeons, and set up intruder warning systems in both. No sign of life whatsoever. He’s gone.”

“Great,” Combeferre breathed a sigh of relief, turning to the rest of the control team. “Someone get Lamarque, Thénardier and Myriel on the line. We might actually make it home before half-eleven.”

 

* * *

 

Once the three Headmasters reached Votirlu, the Wizards were free to go. Myriel managed his job fairly quickly, freeing both the students and the teachers from Tholomyès’ control, and Thénardier was free to enter his office and take back control of the school. On impulse, he asked some of the older students to sit in on his discussion with Lamarque, to see if they could remember anything about their experience.

“So it seems he’s vanished into thin air,” the Head Witch muttered, pacing up and down. “Most inconvenient.”

“We’ll find him,” Lamarque said confidently. “Tholomyès may be sneaky, but he’s also far too fond of showing off how much power he has. He’ll make a mistake, or get too cocky, or forget to think something through, and when he does, we’ll be on him like a hunting troll on a scent. At least you’re back in control of Votirlu now.”

“Yes, but _he’s_ in control of our magic,” Thénardier groaned. “He thoroughly emptied our spell vault. It’s only a matter of time before he starts using our own magic against us!”

Montparnasse slumped in his seat. “We’re so sorry, sir,” he whispered. “We don’t remember anything after we saw that deer on the path. We had no idea what Tholomyès was capable of.”

“Our magic was totally ineffective against him,” Lysander added gloomily. “I can’t believe he took over our free will so easily!”

“Don’t worry,” Thénardier shook his head. “I don’t blame you. You were under the spell of a very powerful enemy. Your actions were not your own. The last time Tholomyès rose to power, he murdered, tortured and manipulated the most powerful sorcerers in our dimension. He destroyed the Order of Nymphs, disposed of his own allies when they showed weakness, and doubtless took part in the destruction of Domino. A group of unsuspecting students never stood a chance. But I believe that, with enough preparation and help from our friends at both Musain and Corinthe, we may stand a chance of returning the favour to him.”

 

* * *

 

It turned out that Jehan had been quite correct to worry about Javert’s class. Javert and Palladium were both standing on a golden platform in the courtyard, and the thirteen third-year Faeries who’d gained their Enchantix stepped aboard apprehensively. As soon as everyone had a place, the platform rose up into the sky, flying over the forest, and Cosette wondered what sort of training was so dangerous that they were required to leave school grounds to complete it. She soon found out, however, when Palladium clapped his hands and a large cage full of creatures that looked like giant scarlet pufferfish appeared.

“These are Negafish,” Palladium explained. “They’re a rare giant bacteria that form from the magical remains of spells gone wrong. They’re like big power-absorbing sponges, so your spells have to be delivered with perfect intent and concentration or you’ll have no chance of affecting them.”

Javert took over. “When I give the signal, Professor Palladium will let one out of the cage, and it will charge for its nearest target. Your goal is to defeat it before it reaches you.”

Musichetta raised her hand worriedly. “What happens if we fail?”

“If it touches you, it will drain your powers, and there will be no way to get them back.” Musichetta gulped, and Javert clapped his hands sharply. “Alright. Who’s up first? Jehan Prouvaire.”

With a grimace, Jehan transformed in a swirl of pink, green and orange, and fluttered into the air.

“ENGAGE!” Javert shouted.

The cage door opened enough for one of the Negafish to zoom out towards the Flower Faery, who hurriedly raised their hands and conjured a glittering shield that made the snarling creature bounce back. Maintaining the shield with one hand, they leaned around it and shouted “Enchanted Blossom!”, blasting the Negafish with glittering pink flowers that swarmed it, trapping it in a magical ball. Javert nodded approvingly.

“Next!”

It seemed the class knew what they were doing. Next up was Éponine, who easily blasted her Negafish with killer soundwaves. Then Freddie, who used delicate neon lightning bolts; Enjolras, who chose to vaporize his opponent; Meadow, who to the awe of all, transmuted the Negafish into a twig; Coufreyrac, who used a clever little spell to suck the creature into his PDA; Musichetta, who in spite of her earlier worry easily trapped the Negafish in a Morphix bubble; and most impressively, Tori, who didn’t bother with niceties and instead straight-up conjured a sword that sliced through her opponent in a millisecond, making it explode into a million tiny fragments. Cosette watched in amazement as her remaining classmates used trapping spells, repelling spells, vaporizing spells, reversal spells, and even open-another-dimension-around-your-opponent spells to successfully defeat the Negafish, until finally it was her turn.

“Cosette Valjean!”

“Cosette Enchantix,” Cosette muttered, and in a swirl of blue, pink and gold, she transformed and flew up to wait for her opponent.

“ENGAGE!”

The second the last Negafish left the cage, Cosette raised her hands and screamed “DRAGON ENERGY!” A beam of fire burst from her hands hitting the Negafish head-on, but it clearly hadn’t been enough, because rather than vaporize it or send it flying, all Cosette could do was keep it at a distance, pushing at the spell and inching closer.

“This isn’t looking good,” Courfeyrac murmured nervously. “Since she didn’t defeat it right away, she runs the risk of angering it, or even making it more powerful.”

Panting, Cosette allowed her spell to dissolve, and the Negafish flew towards her, snarling ferociously. Enjolras turned to Javert, looking panicked. “She’s losing control! Professor, you have to do something!”

Javert nodded, stepping forward and rolling up his sleeves, but at that moment Cosette gave a great scream, and a violent burst of energy exploded out of her. The Negafish was sent flying into the atmosphere, becoming smaller and smaller until it disappeared, and the fire cleared around Cosette, who, the group realised to their horror, was no longer transformed. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she fell…

 

* * *

 

“…Could have broken her neck…”

“Lucky Javert was quick enough to catch her…”

“She doesn’t look too good.”

“What do you expect? She fell over seventy feet!”

“Yeah Amaryl, let’s knock you out with your own powers and drop you off the top of Votirlu, and see how good you look.”

“Probably a damn sight better than she normally does.”

“Hey!”

Cosette’s eyes blinked open, and she heard several people breathe in sharply. She groaned at the sudden light, and shut her eyes again, trying to remember what happened.

_Anger… explosion… darkness…_

“I’m sorry, but I’m going to have to ask you all to leave. I need a word with Cosette – alone.”

That was definitely Headmaster Myriel. Cosette shifted her position in what she assumed was a bed, and blinked awake again, now in a position where she wasn’t instantly blinded by the sunlight streaming through the blinds. Myriel was sitting in a chair next to her, and she could see her classmates filing out of the infirmary, glancing worriedly back at her. Nurse Dahlia bustled over, helping her to sit up, and she rubbed at her eyes with another groan.

“What happened, sir?” she managed.

Myriel sighed. “I had been hoping something like this wouldn’t happen. You managed to repel the Negafish, but your magic was out of control. It exploded out of you. I remember you used to have similar outbursts before you got your Charmix – but they were far more controlled than this one was. This one happened because… well, I believe it is because your Enchantix power is dangerously incomplete. The others have powers born out of self-sacrifice; yours were created through pure force of will. It’s not the same, and some parts of it may be off limits to you – certain properties of Faery Dust, for example. Even the most basic things, like endurance and control, will now be challenges for you.”

“But…” Cosette frowned, “I was able to use it to save my friends by buying them time to get away from the Ice Snake, which is like sacrifice, right? So I should be able to use it against Tholomyès.”

Myriel shook his head. “There is no way of knowing that. The ancient powers like Enchantix work in mysterious ways, no matter how much we wish they would be straight-forward. And…” he hesitated before continuing, “Tholomyès has disappeared.”

Cosette paled. “You mean no-one knows where he is?!”

Myriel nodded. “For the moment. I believe your victory against Patron-Minette on Pyros has caused him to take precaution. But no need to worry – Tholomyès cannot hide forever. And he wouldn’t want to; he likes showing off his power too much. In the meantime, you should rest – and perhaps work on finding a way to prevent yourself from losing control again, or I’m afraid your new powers may fail you at a crucial moment.”

“But…” Cosette pulled her knees up to her chest. “Tholomyès killed my mother. He did his best to kill Courfeyrac. He would have killed _me_ if he’d had the chance. We can’t just… _wait_ for him to slip up.” She gazed at her hands as if they held the answers – hang on. Maybe they _did._ “Sir?” she said quietly. “I think I have an idea how to find Tholomyès.” Myriel frowned, and she went on, “If he and I both receive our powers from the Dragon Flame, we have a magical connection. And if he is my blood father, that connection is doubled. If I can sense him –”

“That is a good theory, Cosette,” Myriel interrupted, “and certainly one I would like to look into, but under no circumstances do I want you to follow this up on your own. Remember, Tholomyès nearly killed you the last time you faced him. I would rather you at least wait until you are sure your powers can handle a fight like that. In fact,” his face turned serious, although his eyes still twinkled brightly, “I believe I may ask your friends to keep you out of trouble for a while. Tomorrow afternoon, I give all of you permission to go into town for an outing – strictly dark-Warlock-combat free.”

 

* * *

 

Claquesous glanced around the clearing; only a few metres away from the place Tholomyès had duelled Myriel and turned him into a tree, the residue of Dark Magic gave it the perfect conditions to conceal the entrance to their new hideout. When she’d confirmed that she wasn’t being watched, she took off directly upwards, landing on a thick branch about three quarters of the way up a giant oak tree. She moved her hand in a circle over the bark, then reached and pulled up the cover, revealing a glowing portal. She stepped through it, and the cover fell back down, leaving the tree looking perfectly normal once again.

Claquesous now found herself in a dimension with a build similar to Shadowhaunt; its main feature was a stone castle seemingly carved from the walls of the dimension itself, reaching up further than she could see. She took off again, flying upwards until she reached the main room of the castle, climbing in through the window.

Tholomyès himself was lounging in a stone throne, while Babet and Gueulemer perched on the stacks of magic tomes surrounding him. He was flicking through one of the books, and spoke as she entered. “Thanks to the spells from Votirlu’s vaults, we’ve now accumulated so much magic that even _I_ will have trouble absorbing it all,” he chuckled. “However, I am now well on my way to becoming the most powerful sorcerer of all time, and of all dimensions!” He threw the book back onto a pile next to him, leaning back in his seat.

“Books,” Gueulemer snorted derisively, plucking one from the pile next to him. He scowled at the cover. “I always wait for the movie.” Bored, he flipped the book open to a random page, scowling harder when nothing caught his eye.

“You won’t need to this time,” Tholomyès smirked. Gueulemer looked up from his book curiously. “You’ll have a front row seat to the greatest magic show ever.”

Gueulemer felt something slimy paw at his face, and yelped as he realised a rotting hand has reached out from his book and was feeling his face. He flung it onto the floor, and Tholomyès lazily clicked his fingers, turning the hand to ice. Another click, and the hand shattered as the book closed on it. The three Witches looked up at their master, shaken.

“You know I love a decent curse as much as the next Witch,” Babet commented nervously, “but these are really dangerous and unstable. At least the Army of Darkness actually listened to its masters; _these_ could turn on us at any moment.”

Tholomyès nodded in agreement. “Normally ‘dangerous and unstable’ is exactly my type, but for these, we’ll need a special artefact to harness them.” A wicked grin spread across his face. “And luckily, I know just where to find one.”

 

* * *

 

“Quit staring out the window into nothing, ‘Sette,” Enjolras tutted. “This trip is for your own good. You need to stop fixating.”

Cosette blinked out of her stupor. “Sorry, you’re right, Enj.” Nothing all that interesting about outside anyway. It wasn’t as though Tholomyès was going to randomly pop up out of a roadside peony bush.

The rain had started shortly after they’d stepped onto the bus, and according to both Enjolras and Courfeyrac, would be continuing for several hours – not stopping until long after curfew. Unfortunately, since special permission had been required to take the trip in the first place, it would likely be very difficult to reschedule it, so Rainy Day In Town it was.

For an unknown reason, Enjolras was wriggling excitedly in his seat, and now with Cosette’s attention no longer on the wet landscape, he explained himself. “So, I have a little present for you guys…” He held his hand out, palm up, and wiggled his fingers, making six tiny coats appear, floating above his hand. “These were custom-made for us by my personal tailor in Solaria. I had them commissioned a while ago; it turned out the poor fellow had no clue what ‘raincoats’ were supposed to look like so they only arrived yesterday morning. But they’ll be seriously useful; they’re woven with concealment spells. As long as we’re wearing them and don’t transform, Tholomyès and any other Black Magic users won’t be able to recognise us – even if we’re sitting at the same table.” He snapped his fingers, and in a flash of gold, was wearing a red double—breasted raincoat and a long black scarf. Another snap, and they were all dressed appropriately for the weather – as well as dressed perfectly to taste. It was a testament of how well Enjolras knew his friends that the coats both fit perfectly and were brilliantly suited to individual style.

The bus stopped, and they hopped off, walking through the unusually quiet streets until they found a table with thankfully dry seats under an umbrella outside a café. Jehan and Éponine headed inside to order for the group, while the others sat down at the table. Cosette was now quite relaxed, but Courfeyrac glanced over his shoulder suspiciously, unable to shake the feeling that someone was watching them.

 

* * *

 

“What now, Félix?” Claquesous groaned. While Gueulemer and Babet both enjoyed flying in bad weather (benefits of being the Witches of Storms and Ice), she preferred a dryer climate. It didn’t help that her Witch form left her shoulders bare to the icy rain.

Tholomyès flew ahead of them, dark eyes searching the ground. How he could see it in this downpour though… even the Witch of Darkness was struggling.

“Yeah,” Babet added, his excited tone suggesting he’d rather badly misinterpreted Claquesous’ desire to get out of the rain as a desire to leap into battle. “Just say the word, and we’ll hit ‘em with everything we’ve got!”

“Patience, my dears,” Tholomyès shook his head with a smirk. “A mission like this requires style and stealth, both of which are my specialty…”

 

* * *

 

“All this rain is such a downer,” Cosette groaned as the rain briefly moved from _unpleasant_ to _downright nasty_ and then back to _unpleasant._ “The weather’s been crap since October, but this takes the cake.”

“And you know what rain means around here,” Enjolras sighed, stirring his coffee. “Where there’s rain, there’s Tholomyès.”

Éponine groaned. “Even on our day off, we can’t focus on anything but Mr Death-and-Destruction.” Next to her, Courfeyrac twitched, glancing over his shoulder at a decorative topiary, and she raised an eyebrow. “Doing alright there, buddy?”

Courfeyrac nodded, frowning, and pulled the compact that contained his DreamBug out of his pocket. “I think someone’s watching us.”

“If you tell me it’s Tholomyès, I’m not even gonna turn around,” Éponine sighed. Cosette squinted at the topiary and caught sight of a thin face peeking around it – bespectacled and freckly, with neat brown hair. She breathed out a sigh of relief.

“No need to panic, guys. Just a cute boy doing some shopping.”

Musichetta rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I bet the window was _all_ he was checking out.”

“Let’s get a closer look, then,” Courfeyrac grinned. He opened his DreamBug compact, and the little Ladybug-shaped device flew out and around to the other side of the topiary. Courfeyrac held up the compact to show them what the camera had picked up. “He _is_ pretty cute, right?”

“Why do you even care what he looks like?” Musichetta said grumpily. “You _have_ a boyfriend.” Cosette raised an eyebrow.

“You OK, Chetta?”

Musichetta made a face, sighing. “Sorry. Watching a cute boy is just another reminder that I won’t ever get to make a choice regarding dating one.”

Éponine made a face. “Ouch. I’d almost forgotten about that whole arranged marriage dealio. It’s so old-fashioned!”

“It’s really a shame,” Jehan added. “According to Feuilly, a lot of Corinthe students have crushes on you. Even if you weren’t into any of them, you should still get to make that decision for yourself.”

“Maybe we should get an actual cute boy’s perspective on the matter,” Enjolras suggested, smirking. “Here, let’s ask the one who’s been eavesdropping on our entire conversation.” He pointed a finger at the topiary, which moved a few feet to the left, revealing the boy who was now wearing a guilty look on his face.

“Sorry,” he laughed nervously, at least having the good grace to appear ashamed at being caught listening in. “I thought you were someone I knew.” He directed the statement at Musichetta, who raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “I’m not usually that weird, creepy guy hiding behind a bush.”

“I understand,” Musichetta said coldly, getting to her feet. “You’re the nosy guy listening in on private conversations from behind a bush.” She turned and walked away at a fast clip, and ignored her friends shouting after her.

“Chetta, wait! Don’t leave!”

The Amis stared after her worriedly, and the boy winced. “I usually make a better first impression than that.”

 

* * *

 

Musichetta stormed down the street, glaring at the numerous puddles on the ground. She knew it was rude and dangerous to leave her friends, especially when this was supposed to have been a stress-free outing, but the boy had rattled something inside her, and she couldn’t identify why she had found him so annoying – which annoyed her further.

“ATTENTION, CITY OF MAGIX!” Musichetta jumped at the sudden booming voice – one she recognized all too well. _Tholomyès!_ She turned wildly looking for him, but he was either magically concealed or speaking very loudly from another street. “I AM HERE FOR THE EYE OF THE ANCESTORS. GUARDS OF THE MUSEUM OF MAGIX, BE PREPARED TO HAND IT OVER, OR FACE MY WRATH!”

Musichetta turned and hurried back to where she’d left her friends. The boy was, thankfully, gone, but the Amis were gathered around Courfeyrac, who was hurriedly typing on his PDA. “Got it,” he said as she reached the table. “The Eye of the Ancestors. It’s a powerful cursed jewel used to magnify spells, and it belonged to the Ancestral Witches. If Tholomyès gets his hands on it, we’re all in trouble.”

“Then I say we head to the museum now and help beef up the security,” Cosette suggested.

“But we’re not supposed to fight him,” Jehan reminded her. Cosette’s eyes narrowed.

“If we don’t, we risk Tholomyès getting his hands on an artefact that will amplify any spell he wants it to. Imagine the size of the killing curse he could unleash with that thing in his possession.”

Jehan shuddered at the thought, and got to their feet. “We really have no choice then, do we?”

 

* * *

 

“This jewel is far too powerful to allow to fall into Tholomyès hands,” the museum’s curator was saying. “We need to move it too a safer place.” The museum’s Dark Artefact expert nodded in agreement, pulling on Dragonhyde gloves and carefully removing the Eye of the Ancestors from its golden case – a powerful magical artefact itself, the Agador Box. The Eye itself was a glittering ruby, cut like a teardrop and encased in a silver collet.

“There’s no safer place than the central vault,” the head of security assured them. “I’ll move my team down there now.”

 

* * *

 

The Amis reached the steps up to the museum. Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be any magical damage from someone forcing entry. “Looks like we beat Tholomyès,” Cosette commented.

Éponine nodded, wincing a little. “I think so, but there’s a weird sound coming from the building. Metal clanging off stone, I think. And there’s a kind of electrical buzzing.”

“It must be the security systems coming on,” Courfeyrac guessed. “If I remember correctly, there are impenetrable metal gates over all the doors and archways, and magic-enhanced motion-sensitive lasers, both inside and outside.” He pointed up at the metal plating beneath the carving of Queen Fantine on the museum’s façade, where panels were sliding open to reveal the laser guns. “The lasers use a kind of magic similar to those Negafish from class on Monday – if they hit you, they sap your magic.” He squinted for a second, focussing hard, apparently connecting his mind to the building’s circuits. “The gates in the circuit that turn on the lasers surrounding the central vault haven’t been opened yet. I’m guessing that’s because they want everyone protecting the Eye safe before they go full-lockdown.”

“They shouldn’t have too much trouble protecting it, even from Tholomyès,” Musichetta frowned. “In most strongholds, the central vault has the most protection, and is generally the easiest place to defend.”

Éponine nodded. “It doesn’t add up. Tholomyès is a tactical genius. Why would he give them enough time to set up defences around the thing he’s after?”

Cosette’s eyes widened. “Because he’s planning something else,” she realised. “Something bigger than just a museum heist. And for some reason, he wants everyone down there when it happens.”

 

* * *

 

Álainn dashed towards the Museum of Magix as fast as he could. With a little concentration, the wind bent to his will and lifted him up onto the decorative balcony that ran around the top of the museum just under the copper roof. After getting his balance, he paused and glanced up, eyes widening with surprise as he realised Musichetta and her friends had beat him to it, and were already standing in the roof garden waiting for Tholomyès.

“I _hate_ stakeouts,” the red-haired one groaned. The dark-haired girl nodded in agreement.

“Especially in the rain with nothing to do but wait.”

“Not to mention, thinking about that guy from earlier is really starting to get to me,” Musichetta scowled.

“Oh, come on, Chetta, he probably just thought you were cute,” the blonde girl said comfortingly. “I think maybe you were too harsh on him.”

“I know,” Musichetta sighed. “I feel bad, but something about him just rubbed me the wrong way, y’know?”

Álainn cleared his throat, pulling himself up to the roof garden. “Can I be of any assistance?”

All six of them spun to face him, and Musichetta’s scowl deepened. “You again! What, are you stalking us or something?”

Álainn hurriedly shook his head. “Of course not! I just figured I could help defend the Eye from Tholomyès.”

The brunet boy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Wait a minute. How did you get up here? The museum is crawling with guards and motion-sensitive lasers!”

“The same way you did,” Álainn shrugged. “Magic.”

The boy shook his head. “Guys, I’m with Chetta. We shouldn’t trust him. He could be working _for_ Tholomyès for all we know!”

“You don’t really think that, do you, Courf?” the blonde girl said worriedly.

“Well, it would certainly explain his spying,” Musichetta said coldly. “And his timing.”

The blond boy snorted. “Chetta, he’s wearing a plastic raincoat and a t-shirt with a puppy on it. Does that really strike you as Minion-Of-Tholomyès fashion sense?” Álainn nodded in agreement, but before Musichetta could say anything, the sky lit up with green lightning, and Tholomyès appeared, hovering in mid-air in front of the museum.

“Here I am, as promised!” he sneered, his voice echoing around the museum. He didn’t even notice the seven teenagers on the roof, even though they were directly in front of him. “Don’t think for even a second that you can stand in my way!”

“The lasers are charging up,” Courfeyrac said, louder than normal as the wind suddenly roared.

“We should attack with them!” Cosette suggested, but Éponine shook her head.

“No, we should let Tholomyès make the first move. See what he’s planning!”

“She’s right,” Courfeyrac agreed. “If he’s gone to all this trouble, there’s no doubt he’s got a backup plan.”

Cosette nodded in agreement, although she clearly wasn’t happy about it, and they watched as Tholomyès stared haughtily down at the laser guns, which had locked onto him. As the three guns all blasted at once, Tholomyès clapped his hands, and a shield made of black light appeared around him. The laser blasts bounced off it, heading right back to the guns that had fired them, and as they hit their new marks, the metal cladding exploded with the force of a small bomb. The Amis all gasped in fear, but thinking quickly, Álainn clapped his hands and moulded the rain into a barrier between them and the blast, metal shrapnel bouncing off it. As the smoke from the explosions cleared, Álainn dropped the shield, and they all looked up to see that Tholomyès had vanished.

“We didn’t even have the chance to cast a single spell,” Jehan murmured.

Cosette nodded in shock. “He seems even stronger than last time!”

“No wonder,” Éponine pointed out. “My dad said he’d completely cleared out Votirlu’s spell vaults. He’s using some of the darkest, most unstable magic known to our world.”

“Although, a spell like that will have taken a lot out of him,” Courfeyrac pointed out. “Stolen magic is more easily exhausted than natural magic, and he just destroyed a seriously powerful security system. He’ll be temporarily weakened – but not by much. If we want to attack him, we need to move now.”

 

* * *

 

The atrium of the museum was a sad sight. Guard robots lay motionless on the ground in every direction, and there was a worryingly large hole in one of the doors that led to the main hallway. Smoke billowed from the laser guns in the corners of the room; it seemed Tholomyès’ spell had taken out the entire circuit.

“What a wreck,” Courfeyrac muttered. Jehan nodded in agreement.

“Those guards will have to be rebuilt from scratch.”

They climbed through the hole, and headed down the main hallway. The galleries were supposed to have metal bars closing them off, but it seemed Tholomyès had used even more of his new power to bend them apart. More guards were strewn on the floor here too, and the entire building was eerily still – which was why Álainn turned sharply when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. “Look!”

Éponine spun towards the gallery he was pointing towards, and caught sight of three pairs of legs vanishing from view as the owners flew out of sight. “Patron-Minette!” she gasped. “Heading through the Western galleries! Towards the Gallery of Dark Magic at the top!”

The Amis all turned, too late to see the Witches, but obligingly moved into battle-ready positions. “Why would Patron-Minette be heading that way?” Musichetta murmured. “The elevator to the vault is just there.”

“You’re right,” Courfeyrac agreed. “That’s totally illogical if the battle is in the vault.”

“Speaking of which, we should get there,” Cosette added. “Or we’ll miss it!”

Éponine shook her head. “None of it adds up. Think about it. Tholomyès warns security, gives them time to set up defences, approaches said defences head-on, and directs his main attack towards the one place he’ll be at a disadvantage. Meanwhile, Patron-Minette show up heading away from the main battle, towards the gallery the Eye isn’t even in anymore!”

“It doesn’t add up,” Courfeyrac agreed. “I think Cosette was right, and something bigger is at stake here. Tholomyès is only random when it comes to choosing what planet to destroy, and even then, only when he’s bored. And attacking a museum with some of the best magical security in Magix is definitely more than a random show of power.” At that moment, the lights all flashed red twice, and a voiceover echoed through the museum.

**“Vault has been sealed. Lockdown complete.”**

Courfeyrac hurriedly pulled out his PDA. Not wasting any time typing, he cast a quick hacking spell, making the device glow green, and watched as security footage began to play on the screen. “Look at this!” he gasped. The Amis and Álainn gathered around him, watching the tiny screen as it showed Tholomyès using magic to throw the curator, the head of security, and the man holding the Eye into the vault. To their shock, he then swung the door closed and pulled the heavy bolt across. As it clicked into place, the door glowed with red light, and the voiceover they’d just heard was discernible in the background.

“He sealed the vault!” Enjolras gasped. “And he didn't even bother going for the Eye! Which means –”

“This has all been a trick,” Courfeyrac said grimly, shoving his PDA back into his pocket. “He just wanted everyone out of the way.”

“He’s been after something else this whole time,” Éponine added. “And if I had to guess, I bet Patron-Minette are stealing it for him right now.”

“If I had to guess, I’d say he’s after the Eye’s display case,” Álainn suggested. “It’s a powerful magical artefact itself – the Agador Box.”

 

* * *

 

Álainn was right on the money. As the Amis hurried towards the Dark Magic gallery, Patron-Minette had already arrived and were examining the empty golden box.

“This is what he wanted?” Gueulemer sneered. “An expensive box? Really?”

“It’s not just an expensive box,” Babet snapped. “The Agador Box can contain an infinite amount of magic, no matter how dark or unstable. It’s exactly what Félix needs.” He moved his hand in a circle, forming a flat floating platform made of ice, and Claquesous used a small magic wave to push the box off its pedestal and onto the platform.

“Félix can store all the magic he has, plus more,” she added. “It’s a very useful trinket, really.”

“Step away from the trinket!” someone snapped behind them, and they turned to see five furious Enchantix Faeries (plus Cosette, untransformed, and a confused-looking boy they didn’t recognise) standing in the doorway. Babet wasted no time in casting an attack spell.

“Icicle Barrage!”

Deathly sharp blades of ice shot towards the Amis, who, to his annoyance, looked nothing more than a bit peeved. “You need to chill!” Jehan shouted. “Evergreen Defence!” Green light shot from their hands and collided with Babet’s spell, neutralizing it.

Enjolras and Éponine joined hands. “Convergence!” they chorused. “Solar-Wind-Chimes –” Before they could complete the spell, however, Gueulemer cast one of his own.

“Hurricane Maelstrom!” Bright green lightning formed a ball, which shot at the two Faeries and knocked them back into a solid brick wall.” The Witch of Storms sneered. “Got ‘em.”

“Forget them!” Babet snapped. “We’ve got what we came for. Let’s just boost this thing and leave!”

“Not so fast!” The three Witches turned to see Cosette and Musichetta smirking at them. While they’d been distracted, Cosette had melted the platform, and Musichetta had caught the Agador Box on a Morphix one. “Now _we_ have the box,” Cosette smirked. “Shall we show these impolite patrons the door –” Suddenly she froze, then on instinct grabbed Musichetta and pulled her to the floor, out of the way of a blast of deadly black energy behind them. “He’s here!” she gasped, and scrambled around to glare at her adversary. “Tholomyès!”

The Warlock smirked back at her, and Patron-Minette all looked delighted. “Don’t you know it’s rude to drop by unannounced?” he said coolly. “You should have called first.”

“We can leave you a message right now!” Enjolras snarled. “Mes Amis! Surround him!” The five transformed Faeries moved into place around Tholomyès, raising their hands. “Convergence! Lost World!” Five powerful blasts intermingled around him, but Tholomyès merely chuckled and clapped his hands, instantly dispelling the magic.

“Nice try, but even all of you combined can only hold me back for a few seconds!”

“Well, let’s see how they do with a little extra help!” Cosette snarled. “Cosette Enchantix!” With a swirl of blue, pink and gold, she’d transformed, and Tholomyès raised an eyebrow, now looking a little wary. “Golden Blast!”

“Oh no you d-” Tholomyès started, raising his hands, but Cosette’s spell hit him so quickly he couldn’t even form a shield. He was thrown back several feet, crashing through the wall into another gallery, and Cosette grinned triumphantly, flying after him, leaving her friends to surround Patron-Minette.

 

* * *

 

“Well, look at you,” Tholomyès panted, picking himself up as Cosette landed in front of him. “Dragon Fire power and Enchantix power – together. I feel like a proud parent. This might actually be a challenge.”

“Good!” Cosette snarled. “You and me. Let’s go!” Tholomyès formed a ball of fire between his hands, but Cosette had already taken off out of the gallery into another, and he flew after her, cursing under his breath. Cosette seemed to be slowing down as they approached a ceiling-high glass display case that divided the room down the middle, and he sped up to move ahead of her, but realised too late that she was feinting. As soon as he pulled ahead – just past the glass display case – she darted around it so it was between them, and he realised what she’d already worked out: the glass was magic-proof, buying her time to form a powerful spell while he didn’t have a chance to shoot at her. Their eyes met through the glass as she raised her hands, forming a sphere of golden fire that glowed brighter than his own, and he wondered when he’d become so sloppy as to be easily bested by his own daughter.

Cosette, however, was not nearly so calm and collected as she’d appeared. She couldn’t help but worry if she was about to have a repeat of Monday’s Negafish incident, and her spell would either risk making Tholomyès more powerful, or take both of them out. Myriel’s voice echoed around her head:

_“I believe your Enchantix power is dangerously incomplete.”_

_No, you can’t focus on that now,_ she reminded herself. She was almost at the end of the glass display, meaning her protection was about to vanish. As she rounded the corner, Tholomyès gave a deranged cackle.

“End of the line, coming up!” His curse shot towards her, too fast to block, and she closed her eyes, her own spell vanishing as she threw her hands up to shield her face. To her surprise, though, it never hit her, and she opened her eyes in time to see her Faery Dust bottle rising up in front of her and absorbing the impact. She hurried to cast a second fire spell, but to Tholomyès’ bemusement, she flung it through the door into the main hallway, where it exploded too far away to cause him any injury. He looked almost disappointed. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid to fight?”

“No,” Cosette smirked. “I just figured it would be easier if we all attacked you together.”

Tholomyès realised, too late, that the spell hadn’t been an attack – it had been a signal. And while he’d been distracted by it, the Amis had surrounded him without him noticing. He spun wildly, and spotted Patron-Minette dangling from the ceiling, encased in a Morphix prison. The Agador Box floated on a Morphix platform behind Musichetta, who smirked triumphantly at him. Tholomyès glared at her, but his eyes narrowed upon seeing the unfamiliar boy dash into the gallery behind her, panting, but looking awed. He followed the boy’s gaze, and realised the majority of his amazement was directed at Musichetta herself, and a nasty grin appeared on his face as an idea took root. He straightened up and brushed himself off.

“Just beware, Cosette,” he drawled. “One day I’ll take that Faery Dust pendant from around your neck and add it to my collection, just like I did with your Charmix.” Cosette’s glare deepened, and his smirk widened. “But I’m not going to fight all of you today. Only…” he spun and sent a beam of black magic directly at Musichetta – “you!”

“NO!” the unfamiliar boy shouted. He took a great flying leap and flung himself in front of Musichetta, taking the blast for her, which wrapped around him, slowly tightening. He let out a scream, struggling for breath, and Tholomyès chuckled happily. He loved it when a plan came together.

“Oh, look,” he feigned surprise, “who’s this wannabe hero?”

“Let him go, Tholomyès!” Cosette snarled, but he picked up an undertone of panic in her voice.

“Nah,” he laughed. “I’d rather crush him into hero dust. But if you give me my prize and my associates, I’ll be happy to let him go.”

“What do we do, Cosette?” Jehan murmured. Cosette gnawed on her lip, then came to a decision.

“Musichetta’s Morphix power is holding the box and Patron-Minette. It’s her call.”

Courfeyrac glared at Tholomyès. “If he’s working for you, by choosing to save him we’d be playing right into your hands.”

“But what if he’s not?” Jehan asked worriedly. “If we leave him to his fate we’ll have killed an innocent person.”

Musichetta nodded, staring at the ground. “I agree. And I refuse to risk innocent lives. Let him go. We’ll give you what you want.”

 

* * *

 

Standing in the roof garden of the museum, the Amis watched as Tholomyès and Patron-Minette flew away, the Agador Box tucked under Tholomyès’ arm. “Let’s go!” his gloating voice floated back to them on the wind. “We have some packing to do!”

“We have to go back to Musain,” Enjolras said quietly. “Tell Headmaster Myriel what happened.”

“Álainn should do the explaining,” Courfeyrac said angrily. “It’s his fault that Tholomyès got away.” He turned to glare at the boy, but Álainn was nowhere to be seen. “Aaaaaaaand he’s gone.”

“Good,” Musichetta said coldly. “He’s been nothing but trouble since we met him.”

“You OK, Cosette?” Jehan asked. Cosette blinked and looked away from where she’d been staring into the distance, and nodded.

“Fine.” But she couldn’t help but remember Myriel’s words to her:

_“I’m afraid your new powers may fail you at a crucial moment.”_


	19. In Which Enjolras Will Crash That Wedding If It's The Last Thing He Does

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With King Nicholas' wedding to Countess Giselle fast approaching, Enjolras knows he has to do something to stop it. Unfortunately, he first has the problem of getting past security...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope I can get another chapter out before Christmas, but it's probably not likely since I'm working every day before Christmas itself. Hope this one makes up for that!!

Countess Giselle and former-Viscount-now-Crown-Prince Lucas gazed over the Hall of the Universe. It was only a day or so before the wedding was scheduled to take place, and both felt pretty damn smug about their little plot. Giselle smirked at the model of the sun, directly in the centre of the room. “Do you see that sun, Lucas?” she purred. “It’s the centre of the Magical Universe. Well, after the wedding, I will be the centre of King Nicolas’ Universe, and by extension everyone else’s!”

Lucas twirled a sceptre in his hand. It was by no means as beautiful or powerful as Enjolras’ had been, made of plain silver with a dark blue gem in the centre of a rhombic frame, but it was the symbolism that mattered. “And I will be the only star in Solaria!” he chuckled. With a flick of his sceptre, the stars of the model flickered out. “I will extinguish every single other one if need be.” He sighed in delight. “Ah, it’s so much fun to rob Enjolras of his privileged little position.”

 

* * *

 

King Nicholas was staring up at the ceiling when Giselle found him in the aviary. She moved to put a hand on his shoulder, but Nicholas turned before she could. “Giselle,” he said, with the most conviction she’d heard from him in months, “why have my doves been caged?”

Giselle glared up at the high ceiling, and the sound of hundreds of panicked doves frantically flapping at the bars of their new iron cages. “We can’t have those filthy pests flying around during the wedding, now, can we?”

Nicholas glared right back. “My doves are not filthy. They have always been allowed to fly free. And they are not pests!”

Giselle clenched her fist. “It’s that type of thinking that let Enjolras get away with so much for so many years. The last time a party was held in this palace, he turned my formal engagement into a freak show. If he truly cares for you, he’ll allow you to be happy instead of showing up and causing a scene. There will be no pests at my wedding, whether they are your son and his friends, or your flying rodents.” She felt the scar on her neck itching, and grasped Nicholas’ shoulder. There could be no room for error with this spell, especially now she’d come so far. “ _Are we clear?”_

Nicholas’ eyes dulled again, and he nodded listlessly. Giselle beamed. “Excellent.”

 

* * *

 

_“Now, to the event of the century!”_ said the newsreader. _“Rumoured to be the largest, most expensive wedding since that of King Darilius and Queen Posetine of Domino over half a century ago,_ (“Those are my grandparents!” Cosette said excitedly, but shut up upon seeing Enjolras’ glare) _Countess Giselle has pulled out all the stops - including beefing up security to prevent the appearance of undesirable guests.”_

“‘ _Undesirable guests_ ’?! How dare she!” Enjolras furiously threw a hairbrush at the TV, which had moved on to a story about an Androssian Lord whose son had recently gone missing. “I can’t believe this!” he snarled. “That woman has bewitched my father! First her awful son Lucas turns me into a swamp creature _on my birthday_ , and then they had the guards try to _kill us_ , Giselle had Lucas replace me as Crown Prince, and now she’s not even letting me go to my own father’s wedding! She’s wicked, she’s manipulative, and her hair is an abomination!” He looked desperate. “If she marries my father, it will be a disaster for Solaria! She’s a conservative, for Dragon’s sake! She’s already raised taxes to unreasonable levels and got rid of as many of my father’s ministers as possible. You guys have to help me stop that wedding!” he begged.

Jehan squeezed his hand, and Cosette ruffled his hair. “Of course we’ll help you, Enj.”

“Right!” Éponine agreed. “What kind of friends would we be if we let your dad marry a succubus?”

“We’ll stop the wedding,” Musichetta nodded.

“And then we’ll put good hair back in the throne of Solaria!” Courfeyrac added with a chuckle.

 

* * *

 

Tholomyès silently gloated down at the Agador Box, which had been put to good use holding the large number of curses, hexes, and various other dangerous magics he had ‘liberated’ from the planets of the Magic Dimension. With this in his possession, he could pick and choose from his collection far more easily. Soon, Cosette would be defeated for good, and there would be nothing standing in the way of his quest to become the most powerful sorcerer of all time –

“There’s nothing better than a big bowl of ice-cream, unless it’s _two_ big bowls of ice-cream.”

– except the damned incompetence of his minions.

“I love this flavour,” Babet continued around a mouthful of caramel toffee swirl. “I used to eat it all the time when I was a kid.”

“Maybe that’s why you became so cold,” Claquesous sneered, blowing on one of her freshly painted fingernails. Babet glared at her, the effect slightly ruined by the ice-cream spoon still in his mouth, but she ignored him in favour of admiring the plum purple colour of her nail varnish.

“Hey, Claq,” Gueulemer grinned, somehow managing to look threatening even while brandishing a peacock feather fan. “How about you let me dry your nails for you?”

“OK,” Claquesous agreed, rightfully apprehensive. “But I don’t want a typhoon. Just give me a light summer breeze.”

Gueulemer’s grin widened. “Relax,” he chortled, before swiping the fan down through the air. ‘Light summer breeze’ clearly wasn’t in his vocabulary, because the resulting gust was enough to lift both Claquesous and Babet out of their seats, Babet protectively curling around his ice-cream bowl, and made Tholomyès stumble, forcing him to fumble to catch the box. As the wind died, he turned to glare at Gueulemer.

“What do you think you’re doing, Gueulemer?” he hissed. “That little prank nearly cost us the precious treasure we got in exchange for that Wizard’s pathetic little life!”

“Who, the guy from the Museum of Magix?” Claquesous asked. Tholomyès nodded.

“His name is Álainn, and his naivety is the only reason I am holding this box. With this I can accumulate even more power than before – enough to blow Gueulemer’s little tornado spell there right out of the water.”

 

* * *

 

“Nova!”

Nova looked up from where she was sitting against a tree flipping through a book on ancient battle tactics to see Enjolras and his friends approaching her. “Sup?”

Enjolras shrugged. “Just wondered if you might have any juicy gossip about my father’s wedding.”

Nova shrugged. “All I know is that there’s going to be mega security.”

Enjolras pouted. “Aw, come on, everyone knows that! I thought you might have the inside scoop for me.”

Nova frowned thoughtfully, remembering the contents of her mother’s last letter, and nodded slowly. “Well, I did hear one other thing. Apparently, Countess Giselle has booked one of the best circuses of all time for the reception entertainment.”

Enjolras snorted. “That sounds fun – if I was five, maybe.”

“There’s supposed to be jugglers performing with flaming props –”

“Ooh, is her wedding dress flammable?”

“I’m going to ignore that,” Nova decided. “You sound way too excited. There’s also supposed to be these dancers who will perform in the King and Queen’s honour. How’s that for the inside scoop?” she grinned.

“Perfect!” Enjolras beamed. “Now we have a way to sneak into the wedding and stop my father, our King, from marrying Countess Giselle and making a huge mistake!”

“How about we sneak in as dancers?” Musichetta suggested, but Enjolras shook his head.

“No way. You’re the only one of us who can actually dance. They’d know for sure we were imposters.”

Musichetta sighed. “Yeah, good point.”

“As jugglers then!” Cosette grinned. “I’m a pretty good juggler, especially with fire!”

Enjolras shook his head again. “Again, only you could get away with it. The rest of us would be nursing multiple burns in a Solarian prison cell.” He turned desperately to Nova. “Anything else you could think of?”

Nova nodded slowly, a smile forming on her face. “Yep, but you’re not gonna like it.”

 

* * *

 

“No. Absolutely not.”

“Come on, Enj, it’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Enjolras spluttered. “Not that bad? No, Cosette, clown-themed waiter costumes would be ‘not that bad’. Pretending to be a band called ‘The Diddlybopz’ whose gimmick is dressing up as pizza and spaghetti would be ‘not that bad’. I’m not doing this, and you can’t make me.”

“Enj, don’t you think you’re overreacting a little?”

“Never. Hovercycles are death traps, and none of us except Musichetta know how to drive one, let alone pull off stunts. We’d either be caught in minutes, or dead in minutes.”

“It’s the perfect disguise though,” Éponine pointed out. “Think about it. We’d wear helmets, so our faces wouldn’t be recognized. We wouldn’t have to worry about costumes coming loose, like we would if we dressed up as dancers or jugglers. And we’d have escape vehicles right there and ready if things went south.”

Enjolras continued to scowl, but Courfeyrac held up his laptop, which had a video set up ready to play. “This might change your mind, Enj. Watch.”

Enjolras’ scowl did lighten a little as he watched the six hovercyclists zoom in formation, then in a pyramid atop a single hovercycle, and finally in handstands on their own individual rides. “They’re called ‘The Unchained Falcons’,” Courfeyrac continued, turning the video off. “They’re also renowned for being notoriously unfriendly to interviewers – and basically to anyone asking questions. No autographs, no personal facts we need to memorize – that’s half the problems with impersonating a stranger completely solved.”

“Not to mention,” Cosette added, “they wouldn’t be performing until after the wedding. We wouldn’t have to do any dangerous stunts, since we’d be going in to stop the actual ceremony itself. All we’d have to do is ride past security and park up. From there we’d just be doing what we do best.”

“You mean causing a riot to prevent evil from taking over part of the dimension?” Enjolras chuckled drily. “Fine. But we only have one day to learn how to ride hovercycles in a way that makes us look like professionals. And there’s no way Chetta can teach all of us at once.”

“We’d be happy to help,” said a familiar voice. The Amis turned from where they were gathered around Courfeyrac’s laptop to see Marius, Grantaire, Feuilly, Combeferre and Bahorel standing in the door.

“Courf called us,” Feuilly smiled in response to the unasked question of why they were here. “He said you guys would need to learn to ride hovercycles as quickly as possible.”

“And we saw the news report before we left,” Grantaire added. “If this is what we think it is, and what we think it is is a scheme to stop Enjolras’ father from signing Solaria over to Tholomyès, then we’re in.”

 

* * *

 

They started immediately. The part of Roccaluce Forest around Musain made a fine training ground; the ground was soft, the trees weren’t too crowded together, there was no chance of hitting a passer-by like there would have been on the road, and it was big enough that they weren’t crashing into each other. The Amis split off into pairs of Faery and Wizard – except Musichetta, who was already a decent enough rider that she just needed a little practice – and started by going through the basic controls of the bike: how to start, accelerate, brake, turn and stop. They paused for a picnic lunch, delighted by how quickly they’d all managed to learn the basics, and the conversation didn’t stray from how much fun it had turned out to be. Éponine and Bahorel were the only ones not in a good mood; apparently they’d had some sort of tiff while Bahorel was teaching Éponine how to accelerate. Bahorel was sullen and Éponine was snippy, especially over the others’ success. Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Musichetta were laughing over how she’d distracted the two boys as she’d done a loop-the-loop right next to them, and as Musichetta joked that she was just a natural at biking, Éponine found her temper flaring.

“Awesome biker, amazing dancer, you’re exactly like Bahorel,” she scowled. “A genius at everything.”

“Ponine, I said I was sorry,” Bahorel snapped. Éponine gave him a very cold look, and Jehan hurriedly suggested they get back up in the air and continue.

The second half of training that day went as well as the first half, and the forest was full of excited shouts as the Faeries demonstrated what they’d picked up during the first half.

“OK, Cosette, rev up the engine now!”

“Enj, wait, maybe you should go a little slower – you do see that boulder we’re heading for, don’t you?!”

“Of course I do! Hold on tight, I haven’t had this much fun in ages!”

“Rematch, Chetta! No looping me this time!”

“Courf, maybe you shouldn’t –”

“Oh, it’s on!”

The only two not laughing and teasing each other were Éponine and Bahorel, who found themselves going for a rather bumpy ride as Bahorel’s bike stalled in mid-air, thumped off the ground, and stalled again.

“Something is wrong with this bike!” Éponine yelled.

“Impossible!” Bahorel replied. “I checked it right before we left!”

Éponine angrily pulled to a halt and lifted the visor of her helmet. “I’m telling you, the thing is broken!”

 

* * *

 

That night in the room they shared, Éponine related the fight back to Musichetta and apologized for snapping at her earlier. Musichetta listened sympathetically, not quite understanding the various nuances of teenage relationships, but she was very much able to understand the frustration of having a loved one not listen to you.

“Maybe you should just tell him how you feel,” she suggested, lying upside-down on her bed and leaning her head back to watch Éponine.

“What’s the point?” Éponine said gloomily. “He didn’t believe me when I told him his bike was acting up. I mean,” she got up and started pacing angrily, “how can you stay with someone who doesn’t trust you?”

Musichetta righted herself and pushed an errant red curl out of her face. “That’s easy,” she said thoughtlessly. “You just don’t.” Éponine froze, and Musichetta replayed her last sentence before groaning. “Sorry, Ép. I didn’t mean –”

“No, you’re right, Chetta,” Éponine sighed, collapsing face-first back onto her bed. “I need to figure out what I need to do and just do it,” she said into the pillow.

 

* * *

 

“You really have a way with words, don’t you,” Combeferre sighed upon hearing the same story from Bahorel. Bahorel scowled, not even looking up from where he was polishing his helmet.

“Look who’s talking,” he retorted. “It took _you_ forever to tell _Courf_ you liked him.”

Combeferre shrugged good-naturedly. “Yeah, but I did it eventually, and it wasn’t that bad. I mean, it was scary, but it’s always worse in your head.”

“He’s got a point,” Grantaire said, raising his eyebrows. “You could definitely learn something from Ferre, Rel.”

Bahorel didn’t even seem to hear him, putting his helmet down and turning his attention to Feuilly, who was sitting next to him on the couch, absorbed in a handwritten letter. “I bet I could learn something from Feuilly and his little penpal,” he grinned – not nicely. It was a grin that reminded Marius, Grantaire and Combeferre of the days when Bahorel had been Claquesous’ stooge for spying on them. “Let’s see what the reading material is!” He snatched the letter out of Feuilly’s hands, and ignoring his friend’s annoyed shout, began reading aloud. “ _Your presence speaks softly compared to your absence_ – who knew Jehan was so mushy?”

“Shut up, Bahorel,” Marius said softly, his voice a warning that Bahorel elected to ignore. “You’ll wake up the whole school!”

“ _But neither compares to –_ ”

Feuilly snatched the letter back, breathing hard, his face as red as his hair, and Bahorel realised he’d gone too far. “You’re the one who needs to wake up!” Feuilly said angrily. “You keep on playing the jerk like that and you’re going to lose Éponine forever!”

 

* * *

 

“You know, since I’ve come to Musain, I’ve learned that you have to take care of yourself first by doing what’s best for _you_ ,” Musichetta said thoughtfully, stroking Lise as the Piskie napped on her pillow. “The people who really love you will understand your decisions and give you their support. We’re not little girls anymore; we’re growing up.”

Éponine nodded in agreement, but found a devilish grin sneaking onto her face. “So, what have you _decided_ about Álainn?”

Musichetta scowled. “And why are we talking about Álainn?”

“Come on,” Éponine teased. “I think you know.”

“No comment,” Musichetta said grumpily. “Besides, you know I’m already promised to someone I don’t care about.” She lay back on her pillow and moved Lise so the Piskie was lying on top of her head, pulling the covers up before turning off her bedside lamp. “Time to sleep. Tomorrow’s a big day.”

 

* * *

 

The day of the wedding dawned bright and beautiful on Solaria. For some, it was an opportunity to watch the sunrise. For others… not so much.

“WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THE CURTAINS?!” Lucas howled, shooting upright in bed. A maid hurried over to pull them closed, curtseying apologetically. Lucas scowled at her, unthankful. “I am the future king of Solaria, and I shouldn’t be woken for something as insignificant as the sun!” he snapped, not seeing the irony in his words. “The next time something like this happens, I won’t be so nice!”

Another maid brought a breakfast tray over, while another placed his sceptre next to him, as per his mother’s instructions. Lucas admired the gleaming sapphire in the centre, his rage forgotten. “And this is only the beginning!” he said gleefully, unable to prevent a little cackle from slipping out. The maids watched in fearful silence, curtseying before hurrying out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Musichetta and the Wizards watched as Cosette, Enjolras, Courfeyrac, Jehan and Éponine shot over the forest in perfect formation on their borrowed hovercycles. With only one day of lessons, it really was impressive that they’d all managed to pick it up so quickly. But all too soon, they had to head back to Corinthe and file into the Owl, giving themselves at least five hours before the start of the wedding. As Combeferre took the controls and Feuilly navigated, Bahorel awkwardly tapped Éponine’s shoulder, remembering Feuilly’s words last night. “Hey, Ép, I watched you practicing today and you’re really good –”

Éponine scowled. “No thanks to you and your Hovercycle.” She thrust a battered piece of machinery into his hands and marched off to sit with Jehan. Bahorel groaned as he realised it was the one part of the engine he hadn’t checked yesterday morning, and Musichetta patted his shoulder sympathetically.

 

* * *

 

Guards lined every balcony and pathway of Solaria’s palace, watching like hawks as the golden marquee in which the wedding would be held was set up in the grounds. Lucas watched too, wearing a new dark blue suit that glittered like the night sky and clutching his sceptre. Giselle gave a perfunctory glance out the window before continuing to smirk at her reflection as a maid styled her hair. Everything was falling into place.

 

* * *

 

Combeferre parked the Owl deep in the woods that lined the path to the palace, and the Amis filed out. They hid in the bushes a few metres in, watching silently as a hoverbus pulled up to meet two Solarian guards, who entered as soon as the door opened. “That’s them,” Combeferre whispered. “This is the last checkpoint before the gates; we need to take both the cyclists and the guards out now or it’s all for nothing. And the guards are way more trained in combat than we are, so we can’t risk losing –”

Jehan patted his shoulder, grinning. “Don’t worry. I have a way that won’t require any violence at all. Just maybe hold your breath til it’s over.”

The Amis watched fearfully as Jehan crept over to the open door of the hoverbus. As soon as they were as close to it as they could get without being seen, they clapped once, making a small glass jar containing some kind of glittering moss appear in their hands. Jehan took a deep breath – as did the Amis – and placed the jar just inside the bus, removing the lid.

A few seconds after the lid was off, there were several groans and thuds from inside the bus, and Jehan peeked around the door before nodding and slamming the lid back onto the jar. They let their breath out, and beckoned to the Amis to join them.

Inside the bus, both soldiers and all six hovercyclists were unconscious on the floor or in their seats. Jehan grinned proudly, Vanishing the jar again. “Bronze Slumbermoss. Inhaling its fumes will knock you out for at least an hour. By the time they wake up, we’ll be long gone.”

Enjolras opened what was clearly a costume trunk, and groaned as he held up a sparkly red and gold jumpsuit. “I can’t believe we have to wear these.”

Cosette frowned in confusion. “I thought red and gold were your favourite colours.”

Enjolras nodded with a wince, turning the jumpsuit around to show her the back. In sparkly silver letters, it read ‘Celebrating the Union of Nicholas and Giselle!’ Cosette shuddered in agreement.

“I’m not having anything so tacky around when I get married,” Enjolras said in disgust. “Crashing the wedding and saving my dad will be a piece of cake compared to wearing this.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as they had put on the (admittedly rather horrendous) jumpsuits, the six Faeries pulled out the bikes that had been stored at the back of the ship. Enjolras squeezed Grantaire’s hand before he climbed onto his bike. “You guys should head back to Magix; if this works we can make our own way back. If we haven’t contacted you in two hours, tell Myriel and Javert.”

Grantaire nodded. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Enjolras replied softly, before turning to his fellow bikers. “Come on, guys. Let’s save ourselves a kingdom!”

 

* * *

 

The guards at the gate stood back immediately to let the six bikers past, not even remotely fazed by their blacked-out visors. The guards lining the path up to the marquee were the same, and as the Amis pulled to a halt outside the marquee, Enjolras spotted the reason they’d come.

_“Giselle.”_

Giselle, dressed in a long veil and a rather awful fluffy pink floor-length thing that barely deserved to be acknowledged as a dress (and that made Enjolras mutter a heartfelt apology to the royal tailor), was waving smugly to the gathering crowd of Solarian citizens. Next to her stood King Nicholas, staring blankly at the floor, and Enjolras gripped the handlebars of his bike. “Poor Dad…”

“Ah! You must be the Unchained Falcons!” The Amis turned to see a little bald man with a round body, a rounder head, and a large waxed moustache. “We are so looking forward to seeing you perform,” he declared around the moustache. “I am the Master of Ceremonies; if you would, please follow me…”

The Amis exchanged worried glances, but obediently pushed their bikes after him. The Master of Ceremonies led them around the marquee to where an arena had been set up – tracks, a steel cage, even a ring of fire. “It’s going to be a magnificent day,” he continued cheerfully. “If you’d like, feel free to take the liberty of warming up a little.” No one moved, and the moustache twitched a little. “I am curious to see if you’re really as good as they say…” the Master hinted.

Musichetta sighed and reluctantly pushed her bike forward. “Stand back,” she grunted. The Master clapped excitedly and moved out of the way as Musichetta climbed on. She revved the engine, before flying up the track and into the steel cage, looping around it three times, then speeding towards the ring of fire. She shot through, loop-de-looped above it, and went through again, before landing and climbing down. The Master of Ceremonies clapped delightedly, but at that moment a clear voice rang out from the marquee.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today…”

“Dad,” Enjolras muttered, and marched back towards the marquee. The Amis followed him, ignoring the Master of Ceremonies’ flustered pleas.

“Wait! You’re not supposed to go round there! It’s invitation only!”

The marquee was only open at the front, so the six Faeries had to walk around the entire side to enter it. By the time they reached the opening, the officiant had almost reached the end of his spiel. “If anyone has any just objections to this union, speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

“I OBJECT!”

The shocked congregation turned to where one of the hovercyclists had removed his helmet and was furiously shaking out his long blond hair. “As long as I am alive, Giselle, you will never be queen. Am I clear?” he continued, his golden eyes blazing. Upon recognising him, a shocked gasp ran around the tent.

“Enjolras!” Giselle whispered, horrified. “No!”

“People of Solaria,” Enjolras spoke. His voice and face were full of cold anger, but he spoke slowly and clearly, enunciating every syllable. “I am here to stop this wedding. A great evil threatens our dimension, and Giselle is in cahoots with him – the Warlock, Félix Tholomyès. She has bewitched your king, and intends to take over the kingdom as soon as the marriage is official.”

“Arrest him! He’s crazy!” Giselle shouted desperately, but every eye was on Enjolras.

“And to prove it – sorry, Dad.” He carefully pointed his index finger at his father, and the king’s high collar was magically pulled back, revealing an ugly red scar on his neck. “Do you see that?” Enjolras asked, and some people nodded, others too afraid to move. “That is the Mark of Tholomyès. He places it on the necks of his minions, victims, and those who he has brainwashed. Giselle has one too – and if I’m not mistaken, so does Lucas. They are willing minions of Tholomyès.”

Worried mutters broke out, but one voice rang above the rest – Sigris Brightfoot, the last of Nicholas’ personally appointed ministers. “Giselle is the one who should be arrested!”

“You spoiled brat!” Lucas howled, brandishing his sceptre. “You’re ruining everything!”

“Didn’t anyone tell you, Lucas?” Enjolras snarled. “Sceptres are so last year! And you will NEVER take my place! ENJOLRAS ENCHANTIX!”

“Guards!” Giselle shrieked. “Seize him!”

As ten guards obediently marched towards Enjolras, he heard his friends shout, “Amis Enchantix!” The guards raised their spears, but the Amis were faster, and the guards’ spells were absorbed by a shield dome.

Giselle furiously watched as the guards repeatedly fired on Enjolras and his friends, unable to hit them, and grabbed the officiant by his collar. “I came here to become queen and I’m not leaving until I am!” she snarled. “Marry us! NOW!”

Meanwhile, Sigris and a few other officials had reached Nicholas. “Your majesty, are you sure you want to do this?” Sigris asked. Nicholas continued to stare at the ground.

“I… I don’t know…” he stuttered. Sigris’ eyes narrowed.

“Enjolras is right! King Nicholas is under a spell!” He and his companions turned furiously to face down Giselle. “It’s over, Giselle!”

Giselle laughed madly, and raised her hands. “Too late fellas!” she yelled. A bolt of green light burst from her hands, sending the three men flying. She shoved the officiant forwards, and grabbed Nicholas by the collar, forcing them out of the marquee, hopeful that Enjolras would be too distracted to notice.

Indeed Enjolras had not noticed, but Courfeyrac had, and he pointed it out immediately. “Enjolras! Your father!”

“No!” Enjolras gasped. He set his jaw. “I’m going after him. Cover me!” Courfeyrac nodded, and the Amis moved closer together, increasing the strength of their shield as Enjolras flew directly upwards, shooting over the guards’ heads before they could even think of turning on him.

Lucas met him at the gap Giselle, Nicholas and the officiant had left through, raising his sceptre in preparation. “And where do you think you’re going?” he started, but Enjolras flung him out of his way before he could even think of casting a spell.

“To save my father,” he snarled. Giselle and her hostages had made it inside the palace, and Enjolras flew for the doors. To his horror, Giselle had already made it up three flights of stairs, and he heard his father’s voice echoing down to him.

“Where are you taking me? No, I don’t want to – leave me alone!”

There will never be any terror as great as hearing your strong, capable, wise father sounding like he is a lost, scared child; and Enjolras felt himself nearly sobbing with terror. “DAD!” he screamed.

“Sorry,” someone sneered behind him, “but Daddy can’t help you now.” He turned to see Lucas grinning nastily at him. “When will you _realise_ –”

Enjolras’ spell hit him before he finished his sentence, and Lucas found himself speechless as he landed on his side, his sceptre snapped in two like a piece of spaghetti. “When will _you_ realise that it takes more than a sceptre and a title to make a good leader?” Enjolras said coldly, and Lucas could only watch, shocked, as Enjolras took off up the stairwell.

 

* * *

 

Enjolras caught sight of his father standing on the uppermost landing, looking scared and confused as Giselle bore down upon him, and felt rage like never before coursing through his body. “DAD!” he screamed again, and in a sudden burst of speed he hadn’t known he could produce, he landed next to them.

Nicholas, the officiant, and Giselle could only watch with dropped jaws as Enjolras walked towards them, a winged warrior with fiery eyes. Giselle turned and fled for the staircase, but Enjolras was quicker than she was, and appeared in front of her, blocking her path. “It’s over, Giselle,” he said coldly. Giselle turned again, and once again Enjolras blocked her. “You lost,” he continued. Eyes wide with panic, Giselle once again turned and fled, but once again, Enjolras beat her. She sank to her knees, staring up at him, and he stared down unforgivingly, his lips forming one final word.

_“Go.”_

Giselle buried her face in her hands, and Enjolras continued to stare contemptuously at her for a moment before turning to his father, who still looked terribly confused. “Dad –”

King Nicholas flinched, and Enjolras’ face pinched with worry. “Dad, it’s me. Enjolras. Jojo. Your son.”

“M-my… son?”

Enjolras reached out and took his arm. “Yes! Your son. When I was a little boy, we would go for long walks in the woods, and you would let me swing off your arm, and I would hold on just like this…”

Nicholas shook his head, stammering. “I… I don’t…”

Enjolras’ eyes filled with tears. “That awful spell,” he whispered. “It’s taken your memories, your free will…” He wiped his face with his glove, reaching for the bottle that hung around his neck. “I won’t let Tholomyès take them too! Faery Dust!” The bottle burst open, unleashing silver powder over Nicholas’ head. The king blinked once. Twice.

Then he beamed.

“Enjolras!” he gasped, pulling his son into a tight hug. “Oh, Jojo, I knew it was you all along, but I was stuck in this… in this nightmare! And try as I might, I couldn’t wake up – and there was the wedding, and Giselle, and –”

“It’s OK, Dad,” Enjolras reassured him. “All that matters is that we’re safe now.”

 

* * *

 

An almighty cheer went up as Enjolras and King Nicholas re-entered the marquee, and Cosette pulled Enjolras into a delighted hug. “You did it, Enj!” she cheered. “You saved your father, and your kingdom!”

“And I couldn’t have done it without you!” Enjolras beamed back. He grinned around at his friends. “Thank you so much, all of you.”

“Enjolras told me what you kids did for me and my kingdom,” Nicholas added with a smile. “I cannot thank you enough.”

Cosette smiled back. “It’s no problem, King Nicholas; it’s what we do.”

An angry yell reached their ears, and they turned to see Lucas and Giselle being frogmarched past the marquee in handcuffs, wearing glowing green headbands that the Amis recognised as Magic Containment headbands. Lucas was struggling furiously, screeching like an angry cat.

“Unhand me at once, you buffoons! This isn’t over by a long shot, Musain Faeries! Set me free and I’ll show you what real magic can do!”

Giselle, who seemed to have quietly accepted her fate, turned to glare at Lucas over her shoulder. “Lucas, for once in your life, _zip it!”_

“As for those two,” Nicholas grinned, “I think it’s high time that they learned to reflect on the consequences of their actions. A nice long stay in Lightrock Monastery is long overdue, I should think.”

As the wedding guests applauded, Nicholas and Enjolras hugged again, and the Amis exchanged smiles as it properly hit them that they had at last managed to save one planet from Tholomyès’ darkness.

 

* * *

 

It had seemed a shame to let the entertainment go to waste, and the dancers and jugglers performed for the guests, eliciting gasps of delight and tumultuous applause. Enjolras, however, noticed his father had slipped off at some point, and he and the Amis quietly slipped away, spotting King Nicholas on one of the palace’s balconies.

“What are you doing up here by yourself, Dad?” Enjolras asked. The Amis followed him out onto the golden balcony, and stared up at the once-again blue skies. King Nicholas beamed, pointing up, and they followed his gaze to where a flock of white doves was fluttering above the forest.

“The doves of Solaria,” Nicholas explained with a wide smile. “I’ve given them back their freedom.”

“They’re beautiful,” Éponine gasped, and Musichetta nodded.

“The way they soar through the sky… they look so happy!”

Enjolras nudged Cosette, who was looking rather sombre, and smiled comfortingly at her. “Don’t worry, Cosette. Fantine isn’t completely gone, and we’ll find her, I’m sure of it. What happened here today has proved that Tholomyès’ power can be broken.”

Cosette nodded, a smile returning to her face, but Courfeyrac was frowning down at the ground. “Hoo boy. We may have to celebrate later; I think we’ve been found.” The Amis looked down, and found six angry hovercyclists staring back at them.

King Nicholas chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t tell me, another we-did-it-to-save-the-universe shenanigan has consequences. How many have you had since we last spoke?”

Enjolras laughed too. “Oh, at least four. Maybe more.”

Nicholas wrapped an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Well, you’ll have to tell me about all of them. And don’t miss anything out; I don’t want to forget a bit of it.”


	20. In Which There Might Be A Way To Defeat Tholomyès

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Amis decide to try an ancient power that may hold the secret to defeating Tholomyès; but first they'll have to deal with a familiar stowaway...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You needn't worry about me vanishing again; you're definitely getting another chapter next week!! Sorry to worry anyone with the lack of activity over the Christmas break (unless you read An Anthology Of Verse or Ten Times María Sugrue-Dupain Got Very, Very Angry); enjoy!
> 
> Also? My Christmas Break consisted of work, then Christmas and Boxing Day off, then work, then New Years' Day off, then more work. So I'm very tired.

The first morning of February at Musain began with a crash.

“Take that!” Cosette screamed. “And that, and that, and THAT!” With perfect aim and timing, she blasted four different anti-matter spells to smithereens, then turned and glared at Éponine, her opponent. “You got anything else for me?”

“Pretty good,” Éponine replied, narrowing her eyes. “But can you handle _this?_ Sonic Field!”

Cosette found herself encased in a soundproof magenta bubble, and gritted her teeth, continuing to stare at her adversary. Her hands began to glow with fire magic, but it seemed to be taking her longer than usual to charge the spell.

“I think it’s working!” Jehan whooped from the sidelines – too early. A few seconds later, a flash of golden light swept over the clearing, and Éponine found herself untransformed on the ground, panting as Cosette stood over her, victorious.

Éponine accepted the hand up Cosette offered her, rubbing her head with a groan. “Well, it almost worked,” she commented ruefully. “Until it didn’t.”

“Oh my goodness!” a high-pitched voice squealed, and the girls turned to see Juliette staring at them with horror in her eyes. “What’s happened? Why are you fighting?”

“Don’t worry, Jules,” Enjolras assured her from where he was sat in the shade of an oak. “We’re not really fighting.”

“It’s more of an experiment,” Cosette added, her battle-rage completely gone. “Since Tholomyès and I both get our powers from the Dragon Fire, we figured that if we can find a way to beat my power, we can use it to beat his.”

“So far we’ve only concluded that if Enjolras, Musichetta or I took Cosette on in a proper duel, we’d be Faery Dust before you could say ‘supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’,” Éponine said gloomily.

“Jehan’s turn,” Cosette said cheerfully. Jehan got up, preparing to transform. “And if I beat you, I’m sorry in advance.”

 

* * *

 

_“Musichetta, I understand, but on Andros we have a tradition. Parents always choose the partner for their children. And with our world barely beginning to recover from the attacks, we have no choice but to see you marry as soon as possible. The nation needs some good news.”_

“Is it really good news, though?” Musichetta demanded, glaring at her mother’s countenance in the videochat. “I wish to marry for love, not politics. Will my imprisonment via an unwanted marriage _truly_ cheer up our nation? Or is it just another distraction?”

“Joly is a wonderful young man, Musichetta,” Queen Narissa said stiffly. “As soon as his guards manage to track him down from wherever he has run – or been dragged – off to, the two of you will wed at the Temple Of The Ocean, as is tradition.”

“If I marry him,” Musichetta said stubbornly, “it will be because I love him.”

Narissa opened her mouth to argue back, but Courfeyrac dashed into the room at that moment, waving a book excitedly. “I got it!” he yelled.

“Got what?”

The curly-haired boy was practically buzzing with excitement. “A way to defeat the Dragon Fire!”

Musichetta got to her feet. “Sorry, Mama, I need to go,” she said cheerfully, unceremoniously ended the chat, and followed Courfeyrac out of the room.

 

* * *

 

Jehan, Éponine and Enjolras all looked more beat up than the last time she’d seen them, while Cosette was catching her breath, but Courfeyrac took no notice of this as he opened his book to the marked page. “Check this out. It’s all about the beginning of our universe; the Great Dragon was the first force to come into existence, and like all things that come into existence, it had an opposing force.”

“The Shadow Fire?” Cosette suggested, but Courfeyrac shook his head.

“The Shadow Fire came later; it was literally a shadow of the Flame that had been corrupted by Darkness. No, the opposing force to the Dragon Flame comes from something called ‘Water Stars’.”

Simone cleared her throat. “I thought Water Stars didn’t exist anymore.”

Courfeyrac nodded. “That’s true. They don’t – at least, not in _this_ dimension.”

“ _This_ dimension?” Cosette asked.

Courfeyrac nodded. “As the Dragon created the Universe, it grew in power, and thus so did the Water Stars. There came a point where the first people of our worlds – the Ancient Faeries – realised that if the Dragon and the Stars became any more powerful, they would clash and cancel each other out, and with it the Universe would die. All the most powerful beings that existed came together under the guidance of Arcadia herself, and locked the Water Stars into another dimension, completely sealed off from our own – a place known as ‘The Golden Kingdom’.”

Until now, the Amis had listened with interest, but at the mention of The Golden Kingdom, something seemed to wash over all of them; it hit all of them that here was an actual possible way of defeating Félix Tholomyès. Éponine was the one to voice the new question:

“So how do we get there?”

“The Golden Kingdom only has one entrance left in our dimension,” Courfeyrac explained. “It’s at the base of The Red Tower – on the other side of the Veil Mist Forests.” His face had gone very pale, and he looked incredibly nervous. “It’s… beyond the Barrier Mountains.”

 

* * *

 

Marius and Combeferre were the only Wizards willing to volunteer for this mission; Bahorel and Feuilly both had patrol duties to fulfil, and Grantaire maintained a healthy fear of the lands beyond the Barrier Mountains and refused on the grounds that he wanted to live to his next birthday. Marius had similar fears, but was apparently going out of his way to redeem himself after the Incident on Eraklyon (even though he had been fully forgiven by everyone affected); Combeferre was the only one genuinely excited about the trip. It seemed a passionate interest in cartography could overrule even the oldest of superstitions, and he hadn’t got very far the last time they’d been in the area. As they loaded onto the Hawk, though, there was a genuine air of foreboding that hung in the air. There were plenty of difficult-to-reach places in the Magic Dimension, and even more uncharted ones, but even places like Whisperia and the Downlands were inhabited. The Barrier Mountains were inhospitable to life beyond Harpy Eagles and ancient Gods, and no one knew anything about the Veil Mist Forest.

Indeed, as they reached the Barrier Mountains, Combeferre was frowning at the Navi-Transmitter. He pressed a button on a panel to the side of the little screen, and his frown increased when nothing happened. “That’s odd.”

“What is it?” Roselyne asked.

“The Navi-Transmitter is acting weird.”

“If it’s broken there’s a spare in the supply bay,” Marius offered. Cosette leaned around Combeferre’s chair to see what was happening.

“What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s showing me a huge void right where the Veil Mist Forest should be,” Combeferre explained, for the first time looking a little frightened. “If it’s not broken, that means we’re heading somewhere that doesn’t exist. There’s nothing there!”

“Nothing?” Enjolras frowned. Combeferre nodded.

“According to the Navi-Transmitter, if we stay on our current course we’ll end up flying into… well… Oblivion.”

Of course, there was nothing to do but hope the device was wrong, and Musichetta volunteered to head back into the supply bay to find the spare. It was dark when she entered, and as she felt around for the light-switch, she felt something – or someone – dart past her in the gloom. She froze.

“Is someone in here?” she called shakily.

No reply, but you’d expect as much from a stowaway. Musichetta formed a ball of pinkish light between her palms and released it. It floated around the room before coming to a halt above a young man. He wore a bright red travelling cloak with the hood down, and Musichetta recognised his face immediately. _“YOU!”_

Álainn yanked his hood up and vanished. Musichetta paused, listening carefully. A tiny thud next to the on-board detainment facility (a small platform that when activated used magical bars to hold up to four prisoners) was all she needed; Musichetta launched herself towards the noise and grabbed something that wriggled. “Got you! Now talk.”

“That’s my foot.”

“Huh?”

Álainn reappeared, and Musichetta realised she was holding around the ankles. She got up, glaring at him. “Put your hands where I can see them,” she barked.

Álainn chuckled. “Musichetta, aren’t you forgetting the magic word?”

“Or I’ll _spell you into tiny pieces with all the energy I can muster.”_

Álainn shrugged, still smiling, and shook back his sleeves so she could see both hands. “I meant please,” he said conversationally, holding his wrists together, “but that works too.”

Musichetta conjured handcuffs in no time; she grabbed him by the scruff of the neck and yanked him to his feet. Álainn wiggled his shoulders to get comfortable as soon as he was up.

“You know, I never did get the chance to thank you for saving me the last time we met,” he smiled. “So thank you.”

Musichetta’s stony expression didn’t change. “Turn around, walk slowly,” she said coldly. Álainn obeyed her without complaint.

 

* * *

 

“Hopefully it is just a glitch,” Marius was saying as they approached the doors into the passenger pod. Combeferre replied, and Musichetta could picture him shaking his head.

“I don’t know… we checked all of our equipment before we left, and I’m starting to wonder if we should land at the edge of the mountain range and walk from there. Just to be on the safe side.”

“Look who I found,” Musichetta announced angrily, marching Álainn into the room. Courfeyrac’s eyes widened immediately.

“What’s _he_ doing here?”

Musichetta passed the spare Navi-Transmitter to Combeferre, before returning to scowl at her captive, who was shrugging sheepishly. “I can explain,” he said, but it sounded more like a question than a statement.

Cosette raised her eyebrows. “Alright. We’re listening.”

“This better be good,” Éponine added.

“I was on my way to the Veil Mist Forest to practice my stealth skills,” Álainn said. “But this whole ‘Tholomyès trying to destroy the world’ thing has grounded all flights and rentals. So I hitched a ride.”

“He’s lying,” Courfeyrac glared, but Álainn shook his head.

“I’m not lying!” he insisted. “I sneaked on board just as you were getting ready to leave.”

“OK,” Enjolras said suspiciously. “But then how did you know where we were going?”

“I-I heard you talking about it at Musain,” Álainn stammered. “Um…”

“More lies,” Courfeyrac said angrily.

“Hey, we don’t know that!” Jehan replied, but Courfeyrac shook his head.

“Jehan, need I remind you that this guy is the only reason Tholomyès managed to steal the Agador Box?”

“I agree with Courf,” Musichetta said firmly. “This guy practically has ‘spy’ written all over him! I wouldn’t trust a word that he says.”

“Guys,” Combeferre interrupted, sounding nervous, “I hate to cut in, but we’re about to reach the edge of the Barrier Mountains. We’ll lose reception in about five minutes, so you’d better get any calls or messages in now.”

“Have we decided what to do with our little stowaway yet?” Enjolras asked. Musichetta cracked her knuckles angrily.

“I have a few ideas,” she started, but Marius cleared his throat.

“If you ask me,” he said, rummaging in a box under the control panel marked ‘EMERGENCIES’, “we should definitely throw some heavier cuffs on him.” He pulled out an orange set of handcuffs, except these were the kind that covered both hands, and required two free hands to undo them. “They should keep him from using too much magic.”

“That won’t be necessary –” Álainn started, but Cosette cut across him.

“I agree with Marius. Better safe than sorry.”

Éponine nodded in agreement, and Marius passed her the cuffs. She marched over to Álainn and began locking his hands together; Álainn gloomily shrugged and accepted it.

Jehan, meanwhile, had pulled out their phone and opened the camera app. They turned it to selfie-mode and held it side on, and everyone fell silent so as to not interrupt.

“Hey, Feuilly,” Jehan began with a wide smile. “We’re nearly across the Barrier Mountains and we’re about to lose reception, so I just wanted to send you this to let you know we’re alright so far. OK, everybody –” and they turned the camera around and pointed it at Enjolras –“say hi!”

“Hey Feuilly!” Enjolras smiled.

“Hi!” Cosette waved.

“Hey there,” Courfeyrac added, and Musichetta waved too. Éponine in the background didn’t say anything, because she was busy activating the lock system on Álainn’s handcuffs.

“See you when we get back, mate,” Marius smiled, and Combeferre glanced back to smile at the camera.

“Later, Feuilly!”

Jehan turned the camera back to face themselves, and blew a kiss. “Love you. See you later!”

They ended the video just as Éponine finished with the handcuffs, and Musichetta frogmarched Álainn back to the room she’d found him in. “Come on.”

Just as the door closed behind them, Combeferre said, “Uh-oh,” in the sort of voice you don’t want to hear from a guy piloting an airship in uncharted territory thousands of feet off the ground. Marius scooted over to see what the problem was.

“What’s ‘uh-oh’?”

“The new Navi-Transmitter is saying the same thing: that we’re flying into a place that doesn’t exist. I think…” he glanced at Marius, his face very pale, “we’re about to fall off the edge of the world.”

 

* * *

 

“I’m not a spy,” Álainn insisted as Musichetta pushed him roughly into the containment cell. “I swear, I’m one of the good guys.”

Musichetta pressed the intercom, giving no sign she’d heard him. “Combeferre, activate the bars.”

Álainn stepped forward, leaning towards Musichetta with a slightly desperate look on his face. “Please, just let me –”

“Hey!” Musichetta gasped. “You stay in there!” She pushed him to the back of the cell – and a second later the bars activated, trapping both of them inside.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered. “Combeferre, deactivate the bars!”

Nothing happened. Álainn sat down, looking far too cheerful about this development. “I don’t think Combeferre can hear you,” he smiled. “I think you have to be pressing the intercom button.”

Musichetta glared through the bars at the intercom, so close yet so far away. “Well, I can’t reach the button,” she scowled. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Well, since we’re stuck in here together,” Álainn smiled, “we might as well talk and get to know each other.” Musichetta was silent, so he continued, “What sort of music do you like? You know Ziggy Stardust? I saw him play at the Amphitrite Arena on Andros and he was amazing! I love that one line, _‘Don’t let the sun take your shadow’_.”

“I was at that concert,” Musichetta said unexpectedly.

“No way!”

“And the lyrics are actually ‘ _Don’t let the sun **blast** your shadow.’ _Rock N Roll Suicide happens to be one of my favourite songs.”

“Mine too!” Álainn said excitedly. “I especially love the line, ‘ _You’re too old to lose it, too young to choose it’._ I really relate to it.”

“Me too!” Musichetta said excitedly, almost forgetting she was mad at him. “And the violin arrangement at the end – hey, wait a minute!” Her suspicious glare returned. “Are you trying to put a Charm Spell on me?”

Álainn looked affronted. “Not at all! I was just… being myself.”

“Well, stop it!” Musichetta scowled. “And tell me, what were you doing on Andros?”

Álainn never got the chance to answer her question, because at that moment the Hawk thumped and juddered in mid-air. “What’s going on?” he shouted instead.

“Stay right where you are!” Musichetta insisted. She forced her face to remain calm, but her voice betrayed her fear.

 

* * *

 

Combeferre struggled against the controls, but knew it was no use. “All of you, grab onto something that’s nailed down!” he shouted, clutching his seat. “We’re going down hard!”

He saw Marius and Cosette clutch at each other, clinging to Marius’ own chair, while Jehan braced themselves against a corner, and Éponine grabbed the disability access bars next to the door. The Piskies all held tight to whatever they could reach; Courfeyrac was clinging to his own chair, but slipped his hand into Combeferre’s and squeezed it tight. Combeferre shot him a smile that was somewhat grateful and somewhat attempted comfort, but mostly terrified, and closed his eyes seconds before the impact of the ship hitting the ground shot through his body, and then through the shaking sensation as they skidded about 200 metres before coming to a halt. He cracked one eye open, then glanced around the room and let out a sigh of relief as he realised that everyone present was unharmed. He hit a monitor button, relieved that it still worked when it showed him Musichetta and Álainn in the containment cell (although how she’d ended up inside it was beyond him) both braced against the wall so their backs were to the front of the ship.

“Well,” he said, breathing heavily, “we’re here.”

 

* * *

 

Feuilly had just got out of the shower when Jehan’s video message popped up on his computer. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he clicked on the notification and it opened a play window. He was about to click ‘play’ when Bahorel strolled into the room, looking conversationally irritated.

(Feuilly had named all of Bahorel’s brands of irritation; this one meant he had been mildly disappointed about ten minutes ago.)

“I don’t know about you, but I hardly call cold porridge a suitable breakfast for someone who’s just got off patrol duty,” he said. Feuilly nodded in agreement, and Bahorel raised an eyebrow at his shirtless state. “Do you have to walk around half-naked, man?”

Feuilly shrugged, a good-natured smile playing around his mouth. “Hey, I’ve been on increasingly strong hormone replacement potions for three years in order to walk around shirtless,” he joked. “Get used to it, man.” Bahorel chuckled, and Feuilly turned back to his video, with Bahorel leaning over him curiously.

Both boys smiled as their friends waved to them, but just as the camera turned towards Marius and Combeferre, Bahorel shot out a hand and paused the video. “Wait a minute,” he said sharply. “Rewind it. Only by about three seconds…”

Feuilly did so, and Bahorel zeroed in on the frame. Feuilly followed his gaze to where Éponine stood with her back to them. Visible just behind her was a pair of shoulders clad in red, and when he squinted, Feuilly could see neat brown hair belonging to someone only slightly taller than Éponine. She stood in such a way that her head blocked the boy’s face from view, but her arms were bent at the elbows and her hands were out of sight.

“Who’s that guy?” Bahorel demanded angrily. “And why is Éponine about to kiss him?!” Feuilly didn’t miss the note of hurt in the other boy’s voice, and hurriedly thought of something to say to comfort his friend.

“I don’t know,” he frowned. “Maybe it’s just a bad –” he turned to see the door thump shut behind Bahorel. “– angle.” _Oh no._

By the time Feuilly had dressed and managed to make his way upstairs to the garage, Bahorel’s hovercycle was long gone, and Feuilly groaned quietly. _There is no way this is going to end well._

 

* * *

 

“It’s this way. We’re on the right track.”

“Are you sure, Roselyne?” Enjolras asked. The Piskies flew just ahead of the group as they trudged through the misty golden light that leaked between the clustered evergreens. Combeferre and Lise had stayed back to fix the ship, and now some of the party were wishing they’d stayed with them. There was something deeply unsettling about the lack of life in the forest.

Roselyne nodded. “Positive. Piskies can sense things like this; it’s a gift we have.”

Abby nodded in agreement. “It’s like how sharks can sense fish nearby. It’s a good thing you brought us along, because otherwise you’d have no idea where to – hwuuuurgh!” She collided with something slimy and mud-coloured, and bounced backwards, landing in Courfeyrac’s arms. The Amis squinted at the thing as it opened an eye, and realised it was attached to a stalk. A second later, it vanished backwards into the mist, too quick for even Enjolras to follow where it went.

“What was _that?”_ Marius said worriedly, but a second later another fleshy stalk hit him in the head, and he keeled over with a groan.

“Marius!” Cosette gasped, rushing to his side. He pushed himself up onto his knees, rubbing his head.

Suddenly, Éponine froze, then yelled, “Chetta, behind you!”

Musichetta spun on her heel, and caught the stalk before it could hit her. The eye, which had been closed in preparation for impact, shot open in surprise, and she yanked at the mud-coloured appendage, reeling it in like a fisherman.

When the owner of the eyes came into view, she wished she hadn’t. It looked, at least to Cosette, like a typical monstrous flesh-eating alien – hundreds of eyes on tentacle-like stalks, with a massive single eye in the centre of its tombstone-shaped body, and underneath that a toothy, gaping mouth.

Musichetta screeched in terror as the mouth loomed towards her, but Marius leapt in front of her, and in a second had slashed the creature in two with a fire-sword. The creature seemed to be made of mud; cracks spread up its body from where it had been hit, and a second later it crumbled apart. A growling noise in the mist behind it, however, suggested it had friends, and Cosette took the lead.

“Let’s take them on!” she shouted. “Amis Enchantix!”

In the odd golden light, the bright colours of their Faery forms seemed oddly muted. Cosette sent a fire blast spinning into the mist, and the little bits of mud monster that rained down seconds later told her she’d hit her target. She whooped in celebration, but too soon, for another creature hit her in the back with one of its stalks, and she went flying forward into a tree. She collapsed with a moan at the base of it, and her friends immediately moved to protect her.

Éponine felt something slimy on her ankle, and shrieked as she realised it was another eye-stalk. To her friends’ horror, it dragged her into the mist, and she found herself upside-down on eye-level with another monster’s gaping maw. She screamed again, thrashing around as best she could, but the monster held tight.

Álainn (who had been brought so they could keep an eye on him) made his way over to Musichetta just as she ducked an attack, and held out his cuffed hands desperately. “Musichetta,” he begged. “Please. Free me so I can help you!”

“Are you crazy?!” she yelled. “Not a chance – AAAAARRRGH!” Another stalk had grabbed her around the waist, yanking her into the air, and Álainn came to a decision. He closed his eyes, and focussed hard on the wind. A second later, the buttons on his cuffs clicked, and he was free. He didn’t waste a moment before chucking a handful of flames in the direction of the monster holding Musichetta.

The effect was instantaneous; like the one Marius had hit, it crumbled in seconds, and Musichetta realised the fire had hardened it like clay. She got to her feet shakily, and watched her saviour approach her through the mist. As soon as his face came into view, she blinked in shock.

“You… saved me.”

“There are too few fans of Rock N Roll Suicide in the world,” he joked, before his face became serious. “Do you believe me now? I told you, we’re on the same side.”

 

* * *

 

“Get your grubby tentacles off of me!” Enjolras yelled; one of the monsters had got him by the arms, and Marius was trying to line up a hit that wouldn’t risk hurting his friend. The monster hoisted Enjolras higher into the air and Marius took his shot: he flung his sword directly into the middle of the creature’s body. Enjolras scrambled out of the way as bits of mud monster once again rained down.

Éponine was having far less luck with her own monster; it was swinging her about so much she had no chance to get a _mediocre_ shot at it, let alone a good one. Enjolras saw her struggling and dashed towards her, ducking under one swinging tentacle and jumping over another. “Hey, twelve-eyes!” he yelled. “We’ve had just about enough of you! Solar Ray Burst!”

The sunlight wasn’t as instantaneously effective as fire would have been, but it did the trick: it took ten seconds for the creature to crumble, and Éponine landed hard on her right wrist, gritting her teeth as she felt pain shooting up her arm.

The Piskies were weaving around another monster; it had very little brain-power, and had an eye-stalk following each one. They easily managed to tie it into a knot, and Jehan flung a handful of seeds at it; they landed on its skin and burst into life. Any other seed would have been useless, but Jehan had seen how the monsters reacted to heat, and thus used solar sprouts, which sizzled the creature to pieces instantly.

Soon, there was only one monster left, and Marius slashed and jabbed at it, but it managed to get a stalk around his sword arm. He would have simply formed a sword in his other hand, but he was far clumsier with his left, and knew it would be near impossible to land any attack. To his surprise though, a second later the monster cracked and exploded like it had been overheated in a kiln, and he blinked through the rain of tentacle-bits to see Cosette, still a little shaky, but standing up, with one hand aimed at where the creature had been moments earlier.

 

* * *

 

“So you really could’ve gotten out of those handcuffs this whole time,” Musichetta said softly, as she and Álainn walked back through the mist towards the Amis, “but you didn’t?”

Álainn shrugged. “You told me not to.” He started as Cosette’s voice cut through the mist, calling for Musichetta, and knelt down to pick up the handcuffs. “Hey, maybe you should put these back on me.”

Musichetta looked startled. “Really?”

Álainn smiled softly. “Your friends have bigger things to worry about than whether or not they can trust me.” Musichetta frowned a little as she locked his wrists together again, and he gave a little snort of laughter. “Hey. You look a little… re- _lock_ -tant.”

Musichetta blinked, then groaned. “Oh, don’t tell me you’re into puns!” She couldn’t help the little giggle that slipped out though, and Álainn beamed.

Cosette called again, and Musichetta turned to where her voice was coming from. “I’m here, ‘Sette.”

A pause, and then – “You’d better come quickly. The Piskies say it’s important!”

 

* * *

 

“It doesn’t make sense, Lise.”

“Thenthe?”

Combeferre wiped his brow on his sleeve in frustration. “I fixed the breaker, reconnected it to the wires, then recalibrated the systems – and I _still_ can’t get any power!”

Lise patted his head sympathetically. Combeferre leaned into it, frowning at the exposed wires he’d been working on, but suddenly the unmistakeable sound of the docking bay opening made both jump.

“Oh,” Lise said, very quietly. Combeferre felt for his gun, realised he wasn’t carrying it, and grabbed a large spanner instead.

“Stay behind me,” he murmured to the Piskie, who nodded and ducked behind his shoulder. Combeferre rounded the corner, spanner raised threateningly, and let out a war cry as he jumped towards the helmeted figure who had just broken into the ship.

He felt strong hands grabbing his wrists, and then heard a very familiar voice saying, “Relax, doofus, it’s me.”

“Bahorel,” Combeferre breathed in relief. “Whew.”

“Yeah, it’s me,” Bahorel said, pulling off his helmet. “Now, where’s that guy?”

“What guy? Oh, do you mean Álainn? He’s in the forest with everyone else.”

Bahorel nodded, turning and marching towards the door, and Combeferre threw out a hand to stop him.

“Wait, Baz, you can’t go out there on your own. Only the Piskies know their way around –”

“I can take Lise,” Bahorel shrugged. Combeferre dithered for a moment.

“But she was going to show _me_ when I was done – oh, fine, this can be a problem for Future Me.” He dropped his spanner and followed Bahorel and Lise out the door. “Man, Future Me is gonna _hate_ Present Me.”

 

* * *

 

“We can't go any further,” Simone explained when Musichetta and Álainn arrived.

“Well, _you_ all can,” Abby added at the Amis’ frowns. “But we Piskies have to stop. Any further is too dangerous for us; this is old magic from before we existed.”

“The best thing for us to do,” Roselyne added, “is to go back to Piskie Village. We’re hardly pushovers, but we’re not up to withstanding a spell from Tholomyès. And without your protection –“ She gulped. “Niamh has increased the concealment spells on our village since we lost the Codex last year. We’ll be safe there.”

“And we’ll get there fast too,” Abby added. She smiled sadly at Courfeyrac. “I’ve been adapting your designs to make my own portable wormhole; as soon as we’re back in the Barrier Mountains, we can open one straight to the entrance of Piskie Village.”

At this, Courfeyrac hugged Abby as tightly as he could without hurting her, while blinking away tears, and there were many tearful goodbyes between the Faeries and their bonded Piskies, before the tiny beings turned and fluttered back the way they’d come.

 

* * *

 

As they continued forward, they reached a glittering aquamarine lake, and stretching up behind it, going so high up it vanished in the misty clouds, was what was unmistakeably –

“The Red Tower,” Cosette whispered. They walked around the lake, which took forever, but seemed to have taken no time at all when they reached the foot of the Tower. It seemed to be carved from a tree – but one with scarlet bark that even Jehan had never seen the likes of before. There was something undoubtedly ancient about it; a low wall made of ancient bricks stretched out to the left of the tower, and on the base was a carved wooden door.

“That must be the entrance to The Golden Kingdom,” Jehan breathed. With a glance to their friends, they stepped forward and reached for what looked like the back part of an enormous wooden deadbolt. Jehan turned it ninety degrees, and the doors swung open, revealing what looking like an enormous vestibule. The door leading on, though, had a sort of pull-down handle – like the kind on some fire alarms, or the sort used to turn on industrial lighting. Jehan glanced back, and Enjolras nodded.

“Go on!”

Jehan pulled the handle down, and the second door rose up and out of sight, revealing a third door. “Hey,” they called back. “There’s something written on this one!”

“What does it say?” Marius asked, but was pinned to the ground before he could hear the answer – by a heavy two-pronged spear, the sort a merman might use, that dug its points into the ground on either side of him. Winded, he shuddered at how close he had come to being spiked like a fish.

Courfeyrac immediately yanked at the spear, but it was far too heavy for a normal man to move, and Álainn pointed at the sky with his cuffed hands. “Look!”

The Amis followed his gaze, and saw what looked like a flock of enormous white-bodied centaurs with wings like pegasi flying in formation towards them. They all held the same heavy spears, except for the one who had just thrown his at Marius, and the Amis realised with justifiable worry that the mud monsters had been only _one_ of the Tower’s safeguards.

 

* * *

 

Bahorel, Lise and Combeferre had almost reached the spot where the Amis had met the mud monsters when they ran into the returning Piskies, who explained again why they had to leave now, and pointed them in the right direction. The two Wizards said goodbye to them (with Bahorel gently but discreetly tickling Lise under her chin; he was secretly very fond of her) and journeyed on. They’d only got about twenty yards when a scream echoed back to them – one Bahorel recognised in an instant.

“Éponine,” he muttered, before sprinting as fast as he could towards it.

“WAIT!” Combeferre shouted, before giving chase. He only barely managed to keep Bahorel’s ankles in sight though; Bahorel was both athletic and full of adrenaline, meaning Combeferre, far more comfortable on a bike or behind a control panel, got a stitch very quickly.

 

* * *

 

Musichetta only just dodged the second spear thrown; Éponine was less lucky, and while she wasn’t pinned, one of the prongs skimmed across her exposed back, cutting her skin in a most painful way, and it was the scream she let out as she fell to the ground that Bahorel heard.

Courfeyrac cast a shield spell around himself as one of the Pegataurs landed in front of him; to his horror, the guard easily stomped it to pieces before trapping Courfeyrac with his spear the same way Marius had been pinned. He looked up to see that Enjolras had been similarly trapped; Cosette, Musichetta and Álainn were the only ones still free. The Pegataurs each landed beside their own captive; they wrenched the spears free and grabbed the struggling teenagers around the middle, trapping their wings and arms.

Musichetta was flying in circles, weaving as much as she could, and moving as soon as the guard tagging her looked like he might get a clear shot. She paused long enough that he took one, and managed to dodge the spear, shooting towards Álainn as the Pegataur yanked it out of the ground.

“Álainn,” she cried, definitely _not_ begging, no matter how much it might sound like it. “Please! Take your cuffs off!”

Álainn freed his hands in an instant; the second the Pegataur guard caught up to Musichetta and landed on the ground, the rock gave way around his ankles. It wouldn’t hold him for long, but they both scrambled away.

“Cosette,” Musichetta murmured. “Where is she?”

“I think she’s got it under control,” Álainn said, glancing back. Musichetta glanced back too, and indeed, Cosette looked utterly unfussed, hands raised as she gazed around at four of the still-armed Pegataurs that surrounded her. But Musichetta noticed what Cosette and Álainn had not: the fifth Pegataur that had just been chasing the two of them was sneaking up behind her, spear raised. Musichetta knew if she didn’t act quickly, they’d have no chance. She glanced at Álainn.

“How are you with surfing?”

“I –” Álainn looked deeply confused. “Not bad, but what does that have to do with –”

“Morphix Wave!”

From Musichetta’s raised hands, her pale pink Morphix streamed through the air in a river-like path towards Cosette. She then clapped her hands, making a long Morphix surfboard, and yanked Álainn onto it behind her.

“You’d better not be lying, because I need you to steer.”

Álainn realised where she was going with this plan, and obediently took his position as Musichetta crouched at the front, one hand outstretched, and they took off down the Morphix river. Álainn slowed down briefly as they reached Cosette, and Musichetta reached out and grabbed the back of the girl’s dress as they passed. As Álainn sped up again and the river obediently changed its course so they were climbing away from the Pegataurs on the ground, Cosette blinked in surprise as she saw the spear land where she had been standing a millisecond earlier.

“Thanks,” she gasped, grinning at Musichetta. “Now, um, do you mind…” she gestured upwards with her thumb, and Musichetta grinned too. Álainn didn’t know what to expect; certainly not Musichetta flinging Cosette directly upwards with all the strength she had. The river changed course again, this time heading for the ground, and the two jumped off the surfboard just as it vanished.

Álainn glanced back up in time to see Cosette spread her wings, her hair whipping about her face, and fire filling her eyes and wreathing her arms. For such a tiny girl, the effect really was quite terrifying, and he murmured as much to Musichetta, who smiled proudly.

“Yep, that’s Cosette for you.”

The Pegataur guards, it seemed, weren’t interested in finding out what would happen if Cosette unleashed her fire, because they dropped their prisoners, snatched up their spears, and fled back in the direction they’d come from. As soon as they were out of sight, Cosette landed gently on the ground, the fire vanishing as she shook her long blonde hair back into place. Musichetta hurried over to high-five her, and Marius, Enjolras, Courfeyrac and Jehan slowly got back to their feet, rubbing soon-to-be bruises and looking relieved.

But Álainn’s focus was all on Éponine, who wasn’t stirring. He hurried over to her and lifted her into his arms; she gave a slight moan at the movement, and he realised her back must be in horrible pain – not to mention, her arm must surely be swollen from where she’d fallen on it earlier. He ignored the sound of someone running up behind him, trying to remember how fire-magic played into healing magic, but before he could try anything, a voice spoke behind him – one filled with anger and jealousy.

“ _Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Girlfriend.”_


	21. In Which Bahorel Wants Álainn To Step Away From Éponine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Picking up from where we left off, the Amis enter the Red Tower to find The Golden Kingdom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think this chapter was the first I wrote out of this entire series. It's been completed since before I published chapter one of The Destiny Of Cosette. I hope you enjoy it.

“I won’t say it again; get your hands _off my girlfriend!_ ” Bahorel snarled. Álainn delicately placed Éponine back on the ground, making sure she’d be comfortable. She groaned quietly, and Álainn stroked her hair comfortingly. This was possibly the second-worst thing Álainn could have done (the worst thing being refusing to put Éponine down), because Bahorel’s cheeks flushed the same angry magenta as his hair, he growled low in his throat, and formed a sword from the earth. Combeferre caught up with him and grabbed his wrist warningly, but Bahorel shook him off, continuing to stare at his adversary like a bull who had seen red.

Álainn stood and faced him calmly. Then, quick as a flash, he threw his long red cloak into Bahorel’s face. Bahorel dodged the cloak, dropping his sword, and ran at Álainn, grabbing the front of his tunic. Álainn spun to the side, and Bahorel fell, pulling Álainn with him. The two of them rolled down the hill, Bahorel snarling and Álainn looking increasingly worried, until they reached the bottom, and Álainn kicked Bahorel off of him.

Bahorel managed to land on his feet, and dashed towards Álainn, kicking him in the chest. Álainn was knocked off his feet, and Bahorel ran at him, forming another sword. “Nobody messes with my friends,” he began, swiping at poor Álainn with the sword, “and nobody hits on my girlfriend!”

Álainn jumped backwards, steadying himself. As Bahorel allowed the sword to vanish, Álainn ran at him. “You’ve got it all wrong, dude!” he said mildly, contrasting with the punch he was clearly aiming at Bahorel’s face. Bahorel leapt into the air to dodge it - and suddenly Álainn vanished. Bahorel looked down, and Álainn had grabbed him by the ankles. The shorter man swung him through the air, and he landed in a particularly squishy patch of mud. Álainn dashed towards him and held him down, but suddenly Marius and Combeferre were pulling the two apart.

“Can everybody please just _chill?_ ” snapped the normally even-tempered Combeferre.

“Yeah, Bahorel, it’s cool. Álainn is on our side,” Marius added.

Bahorel took a deep, calming breath. “I thought you were all unconscious.”

Marius shook his head. “Pinned to the ground, more like. But Cosette made the Pegasaurs turn tail.”

Bahorel nodded, but then pointed at Álainn, who was clearly struggling not to laugh at Marius’ unintentional pun. “OK, but what about him and Éponine?”

“What?” Álainn’s boyish face turned from mirthful to shocked in an instant. “If anything it’s - hey Musichetta!” he cut himself off as she and her fellow Faeries approached, all looking deeply concerned. “Musichetta. Hey. Hi. Cool beans,” Álainn groaned quietly. He turned back to Bahorel. “Look, nothing’s going on with me and Éponine.”

Éponine herself, now held up by Jehan, smiled at Bahorel and took his hand. “Rel, Álainn is telling the truth. Nothing is going on between us.” Her cheeks flushed pink. “But I’m glad to see that you care so much.”

Bahorel ran a hand through his hair and blushed in embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said to Álainn, who smiled in acceptance.

“Good,” Éponine smiled, letting go of Jehan so Bahorel could hold her up himself. “But you can’t let your anger get the better of you,” she added sternly.

“You’re right,” Bahorel sighed, wrapping an arm around her and being careful not to touch the welt on her back. “I’ll work on that.”

Musichetta sauntered up to Álainn, trying to look bored but failing spectacularly. “So tell me, where did you learn to surf like that?” she asked. “If that’s ‘not bad’, I can’t help but wonder what you consider award-winning.”

“Thanks, I guess?” Álainn chuckled. “I learned some things from a Water Wizard on Andros.”

“That explains a lot,” Musichetta smiled, and the two of them followed the rest of the Amis up the slope back towards the Red Tower.

When they arrived at the Red Tower, Combeferre knelt down to examine the tiny door carved into the wall. “There’s writing on it,” he murmured. “I think it’s some kind of ancient language, but I have no idea what it says.”

Cosette knelt down next to him to examine the writing. “You know,” she began, “I think I recognise some of the letters from a Magic Exam at Musain.”

Enjolras groaned and rolled his eyes. “And this is why I should always pay attention in class.”

“Remember?” Éponine said. “It’s from when we were studying Growing and Shrinking spells in Professor Wizgiz’s class.”

Courfeyrac quirked an eyebrow. “So… what are we supposed to grow or shrink?”

“Ourselves!” Everyone turned to Enjolras in surprise. “Listen, now I remember!” he continued. “There are some interdimensional passages that require you to change size before you can pass through. This must be one of them!”

“So, does anyone remember how we’re supposed to shrink ourselves?” Musichetta asked.

Cosette scrunched up her face in thought. “In ancient magic, spells like this often used the goodness properties in Faery Dust to remove all traces of Darkness from the soul,” she said after a few seconds. “I remember Wizgiz lecturing Amaryl about it when she forgot to mention it in the essay.”

“What Darkness?” Enjolras said confusedly.

“Everyone has a Dark side to their character,” Combeferre said grimly. “Vanity, pride, wrath…”

Enjolras looked embarrassed. “Oh, yeah.”

Jehan shrugged. “Well, hey, I say it’s worth a try.”

Courfeyrac nodded. “Let’s do it.”

The six Faeries opened their bottles of Faery dust and swirled the sparkling powder over themselves.

“Whoa,” Courfeyrac said softly. “Feel that?”

“I’m shrinking!” Enjolras yelled delightedly.

“Me too!” said Musichetta.

“Me three!” added Jehan.

“This is _so cool!_ ” Éponine enthused.

To give the reader an idea of how small the Amis now were, Musichetta, normally the tallest Faery at 5’11”, now only stood at about 10 inches tall. Enjolras, normally the shortest at 5’3”, was now no taller than 7 inches.

Tiny Courfeyrac (only just taller than Enjolras at 7.5 inches) walked over to the door and pushed it open with ease. “We’re in!”

“Well, you guys are in,” Cosette sighed sadly. The Amis turned, and to their surprise, she was still her normal height of 5’4”. “Headmaster Myriel did warn that since my Enchantix wasn’t earned the same way yours were, certain powers would be off limits to me. I’m afraid I’m gonna have to sit this one out.”

Enjolras patted Cosette’s shin. “Don’t worry, Sette,” he assured her. “We’ll get it done.”

Combeferre smiled down at the tiny Faeries. “Hey, good luck, mes Amis,” he grinned.

“We’ll be right here waiting for you when you get back,” Bahorel added.

The Amis smiled up at their friends, and ran through the door in case it closed again.

They were right to run, as the second they were all on the other side the archway of light that led back to their friends completely vanished, leaving them surrounded by a purplish sea of nothingness.

Suddenly, a large _whoosh_ filled their ears, and a burst of magic washed over them. After it passed, Enjolras breathed out. “Did you guys feel that?”

“Yeah,” Courfeyrac nodded. “It felt like some kind of interdimensional facial exfoliating scrub.”

“It made me feel like I’m floating on air,” Jehan said dreamily.

“Well, you are!” Éponine pointed out with a laugh. Without realising it, all five of them had taken to the air, as there was no ground to stand on.

“This is pretty cool,” Musichetta said blissfully.

 

* * *

 

Sitting on the steps leading up to the Red Tower, Cosette and the Wizards felt the _Whoosh_ too. When it was over, Cosette got to her feet. “That was _intense._ Maybe the foot of a tower that contains another dimension isn’t the best place to sit,” she said.

 

* * *

 

In his hideout, examining his reflection in the surface of the crystal ball he’d stolen from Votirlu, Tholomyès felt the end of the _Whoosh_ , as did Patron-Minette. He turned to his lackeys. “Did you three feel that?”

The three Witches were all grimacing. “Yeah,” Babet replied. “It was all warm and fuzzy. It gave me the creeps!”

Tholomyès gritted his teeth in anger. “It was a wave of positive energy, and it means that someone must have opened the portal to the Golden Kingdom.” He turned to the crystal ball. “Show me the Red Tower.”

Cosette’s face appeared in the crystal ball. When Tholomyès spoke again, the anger was still in his voice, but now it was far quieter and more sinister. “So Les Amis have gone to the Golden Kingdom to try and get the magic that can beat me,” he murmured. He snatched up a small, rectangular box made of a strange black material, and tossed it to Babet. “The three of you. Go to the Red Tower and get rid of Cosette. Now.”

Babet led his cousins out of the room. Claquesous was the last to leave, but before she exited, she turned back to Tholomyès. “Cosette is history.”

“Make sure of it!” Tholomyès smirked. “Now go.”

 

* * *

 

As the Amis fluttered over the purplish ocean and gazed up at the sky(?), which was full of stars, Éponine commented that she hoped wherever they were going was as beautiful as where they were now.

Jehan nodded in agreement, but their attention was caught by something white and fluffy above the group. “Look up there!” they pointed. “I think there are clouds above us that weren’t there before!”

“Let’s check them out then!” Musichetta said, leading the way.

As they broke through the clouds, Éponine paused to check if the cloud really was as bouncy as it looked - _and it was_. “Cloud trampoline!” she cheered, bouncing up and down.

The other Faeries joined her in jumping up and down, Courfeyrac even doing an elaborate backflip and landing on his belly with a whoop. Enjolras lay down in bliss. “It’s so soft,” he murmured, closing his eyes, but he hurriedly opened them again when the cloud became less soft and began to form elaborate golden columns and a matching walkway, extending as far as the eye could see. The Faeries stood, gazing around. In this light, although it was just as golden as the forest, their clothes and wings suddenly seemed even brighter than normal, and their exhaustion from the journey and injuries from the battle seemed to just… melt away.

“This must be the Golden Kingdom,” Jehan said softly. “It’s _amazing_.”

Suddenly, from somewhere near their knee, a shrill trumpet sounded. The Faeries glanced down at a tiny green Elf, no taller than Enjolras’ mid-thigh (and if Enjolras was tiny, this Elf was absolutely minuscule). “First a guided tour of the Golden Kingdom,” the Elf announced, “and then the Elders will see you. Please, follow me.”

They all followed the elf down one of the walkways to the North - or was it the South? Maybe it was neither. The Ocean of Stars (as Jehan had decided to name it) had been very disorientating.

As they continued down the path, they passed a midnight blue box on a golden plinth. “That blue box on your left contains stardust from the very first Wishing Star to ever shoot across a night sky,” the Elf announced. He then pointed to a golden box on the right. “And in the gold box is the very first spell ever cast - _I wouldn’t touch that if I were you!_ ”

Éponine, who had been reaching out to examine the golden box, drew her hand back in alarm.

Soon they reached a pool of water, raised up off the ground and devoid of any features except a large rock. The Elf pointed to an ancient painting of a beautiful woman that hung above the pool. She was rather odd-looking, with pale blue skin the same colour as her hair - in fact it was impossible to tell where her skin ended and her hair began - and narrow golden eyes surrounded by spidery dark blue lashes. “Here is a portrait of our very own Arcadia, the very first Faery,” he announced, but the Amis’ attention was taken by the Mermaid who had broken the surface of the water, and had perched herself atop the rock.

“I was told that a meeting of the Elders had been called?” she asked, and true to her word, she was clearly far older than the Mermaids Musichetta had grown up with on Andros.

“It’s the case of Les Amis,” came a voice from behind them, and they turned to see another Pegataur, much taller than the guards they had fought outside the tower, with greying hair, beard and tail.

From above them, someone said, “We’re scheduled to meet with them right now.” They glanced up at a bizarre beige owl-like creature with a flat, grey, humanoid face and no feet swooping down from Dragon-knows where.

The ground shook, and from the centre of the pool rose an elaborate golden structure that looked not unlike a giant bird perch. The owl-thing perched on the rung second from the top and wrapped its wings around itself, and a pair of glowing blue feet landed on the top-most rung. The feet belonged to a Faery - the same Faery in the portrait that hung above her. She was wearing flowing blue robes, and enormous three-pronged golden wings protruded from her shoulder blades.

“I am Arcadia,” she spoke, “Faery of the Golden Kingdom.” Her voice had a curious, echoing quality to it. “I preside over the council of Elders.”

“And when she says Elders, she means it,” the Pegataur added.

“We have presided over the Golden Kingdom since the beginning of time,” said the Mermaid.

The owl-thing blinked sternly down at them. “Now, which one of you will be speaking on behalf of the rest of you?”

Enjolras glanced around at his friends before he stepped forward. “I guess I will?”

“You are Enjolras,” Arcadia stated. “Crown Prince of Solaria and Faery of the Shining Sun, are you not?”

“Yup, that’s me,” Enjolras nodded, but then coughed and corrected himself. “I mean, yes, your highness.”

“Speak.”

Enjolras cleared his throat. “So, we’ve been battling a Warlock named Félix Tholomyès -”

The Pegataur crossed his arms over his chest. “We know of Tholomyès.”

Enjolras nodded awkwardly. Apparently his normally excellent oratory skills were somewhat diminished when faced with the oldest living beings in the entire universe. “Well, Tholomyès is really bad news and he’s trying to destroy all the good in the universe. We know that his power comes from the Dragon Fire, so we came here looking for Water Stars because they’re supposed to have the opposite energy. We were hoping to use the power of the Water Stars to defeat him and, y’know, save the universe.”

Jehan nodded behind him. “Yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”

The owl-thing nodded. “The Water Stars are indeed the opposite of the Dragon Fire.”

Arcadia’s face and voice remained emotionless. “How badly do you need them?”

“We’ve tried every spell and potion in the book,” Éponine stated flatly. “Even the army of Andros couldn’t stop him. The magic of the Water Stars is our last hope.”

“And you care more about the fate of the universe than your own well-being?” asked the Mermaid.

Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Well, _duh._ I mean, no offence, but doesn’t everybody?”

“We will see,” Arcadia said ominously. “Three of you will enter the Crystal Labyrinth. If you find your way out, we will present you with the Water Stars.”

“...And if we don’t?” Courfeyrac asked nervously.

“You should know that we are both part of time and outside of time,” Arcadia said. “If you cannot find your way out, you must remain there forever.”

Courfeyrac nodded. “Well, I’m pretty good with mazes. I volunteer.”

“Me too,” Enjolras said bravely.

“I’ll go in as well,” Éponine announced, raising her chin combatively.

“Good luck,” Jehan murmured, and Musichetta nodded fervently. The fate of the universe depended on them.

 

* * *

 

Combeferre perched atop a large rock formation, and called down to Bahorel, “This high enough?”

“Perfect!” Bahorel yelled back.

“Great!” Combeferre enthused. “Just give me a sec to mark it and then we can play Light Ball.” He placed a hand on the rock, using his powers to enchant it so it would let them know if they’d hit it.

Meanwhile, Marius and Cosette were sitting atop some rocks about 100 feet away from the others. Cosette was fiddling with her bottle of Faery Dust, but eventually she took a deep breath and asked Marius a question that had been on her mind since she’d returned from Pyros: “When you were under that spell, were you really in love with Céleste?”

Marius shook his head. “No. I know I said a lot of stuff that made it sound like I was, but deep down I didn’t agree with the words coming out of my mouth. It was like my heart knew better. I swear I never had feelings for her.”

“Did you kiss her?”

Marius wrapped his arm around Cosette. “No, never. She wanted our first kiss to be when we married. She was very traditional like that - I mean, besides the whole drugging-me-with-a-love-potion thing.”

“Did you _want_ to kiss her?”

“No,” Marius said firmly. “You’re the only person I ever have and ever will want to kiss.”

Cosette buried her face in his neck. “You have no idea how relieved I am to hear you say that.”

“Oh, I think I have some idea,” Marius giggled, hugging her.

Meanwhile, Álainn was showing Bahorel the trick he’d used to overpower him earlier. “So when you see me trying to go over your defences, it’s just an illusion. I’m actually trying to attack from under.” He leapt towards Bahorel, apparently aiming a punch at his face, and as Bahorel easily stepped back, Álainn vanished and reappeared with his palms flat on the ground, and kicked Bahorel’s legs out from under him. Bahorel hit the ground with a thud, only this time he sat up and grinned with a shout of “Cool!”

“You see?” Álainn chuckled and offered a hand, pulling Bahorel back onto his feet. “In battle, illusion and surprise are your two greatest assets.”

“That’s powerful stuff,” Bahorel nodded. “I like your style. Where did you learn all this?”

Álainn looked a little uncomfortable. “Well, I grew up on an island with no other kids my age and no friends to play with. So I ended up spending a lot of time with the royal guards, and they taught me tons of their battle tricks – like using Nature itself to your advantage. That trick I just showed you? I manipulated the sunlight and air around you to create the illusion of vanishing and reappearing. It helps that I use Heart Magic. It means I’m adaptable.”

Bahorel nodded. “That explains a lot. You’re the only Heart Wizard I’ve ever met besides Headmaster Lamarque. And, shit, man, that sounds fucking lonely.”

Cosette and Marius, with their arms wrapped around each other, had arrived back in time to hear the story of Álainn’s childhood. “That actually sounds a lot like the upbringing Musichetta had,” Cosette said.

“Yeah… well, I think Musichetta is totally amazing,” Álainn said dreamily. “I mean, I look at her face and I can’t help but smile.” He grinned blissfully, but suddenly turned red with embarrassment. “Shit. Did I say that out loud?”

“Uh huh,” Marius chuckled.

“Sorry,” Álainn groaned. “Please don’t tell her I said that?”

“Don’t worry,” Bahorel grinned.

“Your secret is safe with us,” Cosette added.

“All set!” Combeferre yelled excitedly, climbing back down. “I’ll take the first shot. Over the pond, off the rocks and score.” He produced a glowing yellow ball, summoned a yellow sword from the wind, threw the ball into the air, and used the sword to serve it like he was playing tennis. Just as he’d said, the ball flew over the lake, bounced off the rocks, and shot upwards, coming down with the perfect trajectory to hit off the rock face Combeferre had marked as the goal. “Yes!” he cheered, catching the ball and passing it to Marius. “Let’s see you guys beat that!”

 

* * *

 

As they entered the Crystal Labyrinth, Enjolras rolled his shoulders back confidently. “OK, how do you guys wanna play this?” The path ended in a three-way split.

“Logically,” Courfeyrac answered almost immediately. “According to the Law of Probabilities, if you try each and every turn, you will eventually get to the exit of the maze.”

Éponine shook her head. “I prefer to play it by ear. Choose the path that really _speaks_ to me, y’know?”

“I usually take the best-looking path,” Enjolras admitted. “The one that looks the least shadowy or unfriendly.” The path on the right caught his eye. It wasn’t too sparkly, and it wasn’t too shadowy, so it seemed like the friendliest option. “I guess we’re all supposed to find our own way out of the maze,” he said thoughtfully.

“Alright then, boys, I’ll see you when I see you,” Éponine smiled at them, flicking them a salute, before she drifted towards the path on the left, humming along to whatever song she could hear that drew her to the path.

Courfeyrac chose the middle path. “Statistically speaking, it’s super unlikely that there is a food court in this maze,” he mumbled to himself. His stomach gurgled, and he added, “Sure would be nice if there _was_ one, though.”

 

* * *

 

Marius and Álainn had both taken a turn at Light Ball, and both had scored. Bahorel picked up the ball from the ground. “OK,” he said confidently. “This one hits the tree, flies over the pond, off the boulder and score.”

Álainn shook his head with a chuckle. “No way, man.”

“Yeah way!” Bahorel grinned. “Just watch and learn!” He summoned a rock sword, threw the ball into the air, and served it towards the tree. As he’d said it would, it bounced off the tree, flew over the pond, off some boulders and hit the goal. Bahorel caught it with a grin. “Booyah.”

“My turn!” Cosette said cheerfully, grabbing the ball.

“Huh?” Bahorel said in confusion. “You’re playing too, Cosette?”

“Yeah,” Cosette shrugged. “So?”

Marius placed a hand on Bahorel’s shoulder. “Careful, Rel.”

“But… I didn’t say anything?”

Cosette took in the land. Eventually she nodded. “Off the cliff, then the tree, over the pond, off the boulder and score.”

Marius summoned a sword and passed it to her. “Thank you!”

Cosette lined herself up, served - and, to Bahorel’s surprise, hit the ball exactly where it was meant to go. As the _blip_ of the goal being hit sounded, all five of them cheered delightedly.

Unfortunately, their celebration was cut short by a high, cold voice. “I’ve got one for you!” Babet grinned, hovering menacingly above them. “Off the losers, into the Faery and score!” He sent a blast of ice shooting towards them. It knocked all four Wizards off their feet, and struck Cosette hard in the back. She wobbled, and fell to the floor. Babet smirked.

“Yay, I win!”

 

* * *

 

Courfeyrac ran a hand through his hair. This maze was rather repetitive, and he was getting bored. “Turn left, then left again,” he mumbled as he went.

He glanced up and cursed softly under his breath when he realised he’d reached a dead end. He was about to turn back and try going right, when a flash of light distracted him.

Arcadia appeared in front of him, bathed in a soft blue light. “Congratulations, Courfeyrac,” she said, her voice echoing. “You have reached the exit. Only one last choice awaits you before you can leave.”

She raised her right hand, and a door appeared on the wall of the maze. However, it didn’t merely lead through the wall. Instead, as he peered through the door, he realised that on the other side was a world of floating numbers. Green-glowing Greek letters, maths signs, Latin symbols and more spun through a dark vacuum. It was a nerd’s dream.

“Through this door is a world of logic,” Arcadia told him. “All numbers, all equations.”

“Wow,” Courfeyrac murmured.

Then Arcadia raised her other hand, and another door appeared to her left. Courfeyrac abandoned the logic-door to look through this new one. He gasped softly at what was on the other side - it was like a giant cinema screen playing him his own memories. That was Enjolras jumping up and down in delight with a graded essay in his hands, the ‘A’ mark clearly visible, and there was Musichetta teaching Cosette how to properly curtsey. Éponine leading Bahorel in a clumsy waltz, Marius and Grantaire sparring and then throwing down their swords and hugging, Jehan weaving flowers into Feuilly’s hair, and then Combeferre, taking off his glasses and leaning in to kiss him…

“And through this door is a world of emotions and love,” Arcadia explained. “You must choose one of them to exit, and you can never re-enter the other.”

There really was no choice. “I choose this one. Duh.” Courfeyrac pointed to the door that led to the world of emotions.

Arcadia frowned. “But the exit is in the other. If you wish to exit the maze and gain the Water Stars, you must give up emotions forever.”

“That’s _cruel!_ ”

“The choice is yours.”

Courfeyrac glanced longingly over at the emotion-world. The Combeferre in his memory slowly became more substantial, until he was stepping out of the door, almost a real person. Courfeyrac padded towards him and pressed their palms together, feeling the old familiar shock of electricity at the simple contact. But he knew what he had to do.

“Goodbye, ‘Ferre…” He pulled his hand away, and headed for the other door, feeling his eyes fill with tears as he stepped through. The tears vanished as quickly as they’d come, though. After all, there was no logical reason to cry over something as illogical as love.

 

* * *

 

Cosette and the Wizards had all recovered fairly quickly, and thus the battle had commenced.

Claquesous smirked as multiple copies of herself appeared, surrounding Álainn. She had him outnumbered 20 to 1, but to her shock, he didn’t look phased in the slightest.

“Two can play at this game,” he grinned. He clasped his hands in front of his chest, and suddenly there were as many Álainns as there were Claquesous’. “Or should I say twenty?” Multiple Álainns blasted multiple Claquesous’ off their feet. The duplicates vanished, and the real Claquesous groaned in pain and frustration.

“Slick move, new kid,” the high, cold voice sounded behind Álainn, and he turned to see that Babet was bearing down on him, one hand raised and full of icy magic, “but not slick enough!” Hundreds of ice particles spiralled towards him, but suddenly something heavy hit Álainn in the side, pushing both of them out of the way.

Álainn blinked at his saviour, Bahorel. “Thanks!” he grinned.

“We’re cool,” Bahorel smiled, flicking his magenta hair out of his eyes. Álainn opened his mouth to make a joke about Bahorel’s n _ice_ timing, but stopped upon hearing the deranged laughter of the third Witch.

“Twister Of Rage!” Gueulemer cackled, releasing an electric green vortex from his hands. Álainn and Bahorel were lucky enough not to get caught up in it, but unfortunately Marius and Combeferre had been in its direct path.

“Marius!” Combeferre yelled. “Try to grab my feet!”

“Easier said than - ugh - done!” Marius yelped as a branch that had been caught in the twister hit him in the face, but he obligingly reached and grasped for Combeferre’s feet. “OK, gotcha. Now what?!”

“I think I can relocate the twister!” Combeferre shouted. “Brace yourself, we’ll hit the ground when I do!” He concentrated, and allowed a ball of light to appear between his palms. When it was big enough he let it go, and the twister vanished, dumping both boys into the mud.

“Where did you send it?” Marius asked.

“Into a sealed jar on my desk at Corinthe,” Combeferre smirked. “I was meaning to capture and study a twister.”

Marius was about to joke about Combeferre’s talent of bringing studying into everything, when his attention was caught by Babet stalking slowly towards Cosette. Cosette didn’t look at all intimidated, though.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, Cosette,” Babet smirked.

Cosette snorted derisively. “You don’t stand a chance, Babsy.”

“I know, I know,” Babet sighed dramatically. “You’ve got your big bad Enchantix power, and I don’t even have a Gloomix any more. They were destroyed when the cops prized the three of us apart after our little adventure in Realix, you know,” he reminisced, then suddenly shook his head. “You’re side-tracking me. You know I hate being side-tracked. Anyway, Tholomyès wanted me to give you this.” He threw a black box at her, and as it flew through the air it unfolded into a sinister ebony bird. The bird flapped its wings, sprinkling ashes over Cosette. She held up her hands to shield her face, and aimed a blast of fire at Babet - only the blast never came. Cosette’s face slackened in horror.

“Ancient Crows’ Dust,” Babet clarified. “Found only in the darkest caves of Whisperia - my home planet. It renders _you_ totally _powerless_. How do you like my chances now, huh?” He leaned in close to the blonde Faery’s face. “What should I do to you? Let’s see…” Suddenly his face lit up evilly. “I know, let’s re-enact the night we first met! I seem to remember sealing you up in a block of ice!” He raised his hands.

Marius launched himself at Cosette, pushing the two of them away from the blast. Babet looked furious.

“Thanks, Marius!” Cosette smiled at her boyfriend. “I prefer to stay unfrozen.”

Marius smiled back. “Don’t mention it.” The couple stood together and raised their hands in preparation for the Witches’ next attack.

 

* * *

 

Enjolras turned a corner and found himself at a similar dead end to the one Courfeyrac had found himself in about 10 minutes earlier. He groaned loudly, but suddenly gave an even louder undignified shriek at the sudden appearance of Arcadia. She raised an eyebrow concernedly, but shrugged it off, snapping her fingers and making two floor-length mirrors appear. She pointed to the first mirror. “Take a look at yourself, Enjolras.”

Enjolras nervously approached the mirror and examined his face. “Hey… I’m kinda sweaty, but apart from that I don’t look half bad. I mean, I could maybe use a shower and shampoo, but isn’t that always the case, huh?” he chuckled to Arcadia, but blinked awkwardly when she remained as stony-faced as ever. “Okaaaayyyy. Now what?”

“Look in the other mirror.”

Enjolras fluttered over to the second mirror - and promptly fell out of the air in shock at his new reflection. “Where’s my face?” he yelped from the floor.

“This is what your face will look like if you choose to exit the maze and gain the Water Stars.”

Enjolras glared at the reflection - his plump mouth was now a simple cartoonish line, and his brown almond-shaped eyes had been replaced with tiny black dots. His straight nose was now a small nub in the centre of his face, and his eyebrows had vanished. Eventually, Enjolras sighed unhappily. “Well, I don’t have much of a choice then, do I?” He turned back to the first mirror for a second. “Goodbye, face. You have absolutely no idea how much I’ll miss you,” he told his reflection, before resolutely stepping into the glass of the second mirror, which rippled like water as he passed through. He could feel his features shrinking to the doodle-face the glass had shown him, and only one thought was on his mind: _I know Grantaire loves me no matter what, but what will he say when he sees what happened to my face?_

 

* * *

 

Éponine followed the tinkling sound she could hear until she reached a chamber where it seemed to resonate especially loudly. She was unsurprised to find Arcadia standing in front of her.

“Éponine,” Arcadia said softly, “this is a place where time bends around on itself. Everything that has existed in the entire universe still exists here.” She stepped to one side, revealing a delicate archway with a tattered veil over it. The veil was fluttering on a non-existent breeze, and Éponine angled herself to see past it. Her jaw dropped. Sitting at a piano, playing a very familiar tune, was none other than -

“Is that -”

“Yes, Éponine,” Arcadia smiled in a rare show of emotion. “This really is your mother.”

Éponine approached the veil. Her mother stopped playing piano and glanced up, noticing Éponine for the first time. She smiled and approached the archway. “Éponine!” she said. Her voice was exactly how Éponine remembered it. “Come here, sweetheart. Let me see you. Ah, you’ve grown up beautifully. Thank heavens you didn’t get your father’s fashion sense,” she chuckled. Her dirty-blonde curls, wide dark eyes and pouting lips were so familiar it hurt - she looked so similar to how Gavroche looked now.

Arcadia sighed sadly. “If you enter, Éponine, you can be with your mother. You can talk to her and live with her, but it comes at a heavy price.” She pointed to a second, smaller archway that Éponine hadn’t previously noticed. “Through the other archway is the exit, and the Water Stars.”

“So I can be with my mother, and live life like it was before everything went wrong, or I can exit the maze and save the Universe and my friends?” Éponine summarised. “Fu-udgeknuckle. That’s a really hard choice.”

“It’s your choice though, Éponine. Courfeyrac and Enjolras have already found their way out of the maze.”

Éponine sighed. She could feel tears filling her eyes, but blinked them back desperately. Resolutely she looked her mother in the eyes. “Mum.”

“Yes, Sweetie?”

“I want to be with you more than anything. I want to feel your arms around me. I want to sing with you, and walk with you, and be a family just like we used to be. But I can’t, because the entire future of the Universe is depending on it.” Éponine heard her voice crack. “I’m sorry.” She turned away and walked determinedly towards the exit archway, but paused and looked back upon hearing her mother’s voice.

“Éponine, wait!”

“Yes, Mum?”

“I’m… I’m proud of you.”

Éponine smiled in spite of her tears. “Thanks, Mum. Goodbye…” And she stepped through the archway.

White light blinded her for a second, and when it cleared Éponine found herself back next to the pool where they had met the Elders. The Elders were still there, and her friends were standing next to her too - although Courfeyrac had an uncharacteristically blank expression on his face, and Enjolras had pulled the loose part of his hair forwards so that it almost completely covered his face.

“You have all performed admirably,” the Owl-Creature said.

“Indeed, you have proved that you care more about the universe than about yourselves,” the Pegataur agreed.

The elderly Mermaid nodded. “And we have decided to entrust you with the Water Stars.”

Arcadia handed Courfeyrac a delicate silver tray. On it were six tiny stars that glowed softly: red, yellow, green, blue, purple and pink. “Here are the Water Stars. Use them carefully, and good luck!”

“Luck has no bearing on the outcome of the mission,” Courfeyrac stated flatly. Éponine blinked in shock. Courf was always the first to offer someone good luck, knowing that although it wasn’t important to him, it was often important to others. This was so unlike him.

Arcadia then handed a golden box to Enjolras. “Keep them in this box.”

Enjolras pushed his hair out of his face. Éponine, Musichetta and Jehan all yelped upon noticing his new features, and although Courfeyrac did not visibly react, he commented in the same flat voice, “That is neither anatomically correct nor biologically possible.”

Enjolras sighed miserably. “This box is more attractive than I am,” he wailed. “It doesn’t feel _right_.”

“It’s fine, Enj. You look fine!” Jehan comforted him. “It’s really not that noticeable.”

“Yeah? Tell that to Grantaire. Just wait ‘til he gets a load of this _doodle-face_ ,” the blond groaned.

Arcadia wrinkled her nose in agreement. “Yes, I don’t see why we all have to look at that ‘doodle-face’,” she murmured, and snapped her fingers. The skin on Enjolras’ face bubbled and shifted, and suddenly he had his own face again. His eyes widened, and he dashed over to the water to look at his reflection. He laughed relievedly.

Arcadia hummed, and turned to Courfeyrac. “Also, you’re not much fun as a by-the-numbers-boy.” She sprinkled a handful of golden Faery Dust over the boy’s head, and suddenly his familiar grin appeared back on his face. “Colour me stoked,” he breathed.

The Faery of the Golden Kingdom smiled sadly at Éponine. “As for you, Faery of Music, unfortunately I do not have the power to bring your mother back to life.” She laid a hand on the brunette’s shoulder. “It’s not much comfort, I know, but even though she is dead, she will forever live in your heart.”

Éponine sighed. “That’s fucking stupid advice. But thanks. I mean it.”

“Now would be a good time for you to leave; your friends need your help.” Arcadia almost grinned. “More of my ‘fucking stupid advice’: go through that portal before it closes.” She pointed to a pale gold portal that had opened behind them. They turned to go, but Éponine glanced back, a question on her lips.

“Did you just make a joke?” She blinked. The pool had vanished, and with it the Elders. Magic works in strange ways, and probably no one, except perhaps Arcadia, will ever know how the Magic of the Golden Kingdom truly works. Éponine shrugged and followed her friends through the portal, towards the sounds of a battle, feeling their bodies growing back to normal size as they went.

“It’s coming from over there!” Enjolras shouted, pointing to the right. “Let’s go!” The world sharpened into objects - they could see the lake, the steps, the tower and the boulders, and now they could hear familiar voices shouting, screaming and cackling at each other.

Combeferre was duelling Gueulemer, while Claquesous had created two more copies of herself and was duelling Marius, Bahorel and Álainn all at the same time. Babet, meanwhile, was backing Cosette into a corner from which she would have no escape. Cosette didn’t look scared though - she simply looked spitting mad.

“If you think I’m afraid of you because I don’t have my powers, you are wrong!” she spat at the advancing Witch.

Babet merely chuckled. “This is it, Cosette. You’ve reached the end of the line. Any last words you’d like me to pass on to your lame little friends?” Suddenly he jumped in shock at the sound of a voice from behind him. Cosette beamed.

“You mean like how much she loves us?” Enjolras grinned, walking past Babet to take Cosette’s hand.

“And what good friends we all are?” Jehan added, taking her other hand. Courfeyrac, Éponine and Musichetta joined them, creating a semicircle around Babet.

“Let’s take him out with a convergence spell,” Éponine suggested. The Faeries glowed golden together, and a blast of hot white light knocked Babet off his feet. He careened straight into Claquesous and Gueulemer, and the three Witches fell over a wall extending from the tower.

 

* * *

 

On the other side of the wall, Babet groaned and got to his feet. “Those Faeries always ruin everything!” he snarled. “One more minute and Cosette would have been history!”

Claquesous looked worried. “This won’t go down well with Tholomyès, I’m afraid.”

Gueulemer shrugged. “Let’s just tell him they saw us coming and ran away!”

Babet nodded. “Yeah. We have to.”

 

* * *

 

As they headed back to the ship, Courfeyrac, Enjolras and Éponine told their friends the story of how they’d escaped from the Crystal Labyrinth. Jehan was one of the best people to tell stories like this to - they gasped and clapped in all the right places. When they had finished the story, Jehan said, “Wow. I’m so proud of how you three handled yourselves in there!”

“Yeah,” Cosette agreed. “Sounds like quite an ordeal you guys had to go through.”

Enjolras shrugged. “We didn’t do anything you wouldn’t have done.”

Cosette examined the box. “This box contains the six Water Stars that Courf, Enj and Ponine risked everything to get,” she said. “Let’s all make a pact in honour of their bravery.” She placed a hand in the centre of the circle they’d formed. “No matter how fierce the challenges we face get, no matter how many of us are struck down nor how dangerous our world becomes, we won’t stop fighting until Tholomyès is destroyed and Magix is safe.”

The five other Faeries and the four Wizards all placed their hands over Cosette’s, knowing that even though Tholomyès appeared unbeatable, they finally had a chance against him, and that was worth more than all the temptation in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to ask me questions on Tumblr, either at queer-cosette or on-se-sent-comme-par-magie. Love ya! xx


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